Hunted
by lime.likes.jam
Summary: I had known the vampire was coming back to kill me. Known that I had just one week left to live. A week haunted by him, as he flaunted my impending death. A week spent fighting with Paul, who seemed determined to pursue me. If only I had known the truth. Known that for the vampire, my blood was irresistable. Known what he had planned for me as his singer; it was worse than death.
1. Questions

**This story is set in the middle of Eclipse, 2½ weeks before Forks High Graduation.**

* * *

**Prologue**

I was never normal, or my definition of it anyway. My world was different to the average humans, but I can blame that on the tribe. The Quileutes. But even my supernatural upbringing couldn't prepare me for my destiny. It was clear, after that day, that my life wasn't ever going to be easy. No, it wouldn't even come close. Chloe Walker just wasn't meant to live a good life, or even a long one. After all, how many times can one cheat death? Certainly not as many as I had.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Questions**

Pain. Terrible, blinding pain. There was a bloodcurdling scream, flashes of light, metal everywhere. Glass shattered, cutting my arms in their defensive position in front of my face. Tears cascaded down my cheeks, cool against my fevered skin, the world a dark blur. I was gasping, coughing as the car rolled over, and over, and over again.

With a nail biting screech we stopped, and suddenly I could see again. I felt my ears pop, and sound rushed in, followed by my other senses. The smell of heated metal and smoke filled me, almost suffocating in its intensity, as I struggled against the numbness that had captured my body.

What had just happened? It had all gone so fast. One moment, everything was normal. We'd been laughing and chatting. And then, out of nowhere, a person had appeared on the road! My eyes filled with tears as I pieced together the events. Oh my god, we must have hit them! The thought was horrifying, but there was no other explanation.

As I regained control over my limbs, a blinding, searing pain exploded from my left leg. Letting out a scream, I fought to extract it from the mess of crushed metal that used to be a car, but failed. However, in my struggles, I managed to peak through the remains of the windscreen.

What I saw was unbelievable.

The figure we had hit was miraculously standing up, and had not a scratch on his body. I felt my mouth drop open in shock. It wasn't possible! Despite the distance I could tell he was male from his broad shoulders and height. I couldn't believe he was still alive. But that wasn't what really got me.

The thing that well and truly shocked me was the strange sparkles that coated his skin, twinkling in the sunlight. They were there for just moments, before he turned towards me, and the sun shrouded his figure, leaving nothing but a silhouette.

Shock rapidly turned into fear as I tried to process what had just happened. My brain was sluggish, though I couldn't blame it; anyone's mind would be traumatized by the incredible events that were unfolding in front of my very eyes. Yet the answer was so simple.

Simple, but terrible. I didn't want to believe it.

He was a vampire. The sparkles that had glinted on his white skin as he stood up were proof; plus, he had survived our car slamming into him. I just couldn't comprehend it; it was too weird. But while I was mentally floundering, confused as hell, the rest of my mind had already followed this situation out to its end, and I knew with certainty that things were about to get much worse.

Because I highly doubted that our car had hit him by accident. Oh no. I was sure that he had intended us to crash. And I was just as sure that I knew what was going to happen next.

After all, what were vampires most known for? And here I was, just metres away, blood oozing out of the cuts that coated my arms. My leg was burning with pain, and I could feel blood dripping down my leg, warm and wet against my skin. Yeah, I was pretty certain I knew what was coming.

The fear that had gradually been snaking its way through me was suddenly overwhelming. It gripped me with its tight, unbreakable hold, driving all other thoughts out of my head. The only thing I could focus on was my inevitable death. Part of me hoped that, like the crash, I would by some miracle survive. Then again, maybe death would be better now rather than later.

Of course, being drained of blood was not on the top of my priority list. It was somewhere near the bottom, along with a few other horrendous deaths. I was sure dying of a stroke or suffocation would be much quicker and a hell of a lot less painful. Why couldn't my death be like that? But then again, what did I know? It's not like I've died before or anything.

At that point it came to my attention that I was rambling, and that the vampire was just two metres away. I didn't have any room in my brain for rational thought; my sanity had gone the moment I conceded my death.

And now death was coming, my vision was flickering, my heavy breaths slowing. I felt myself slipping away. In the brief moment before I was gone completely, I had time for one last glimpse of the world. But all I could see was the blurry silhouette of the man, and the final rays of sunlight as the sun slipped away, just like my consciousness.

* * *

I jerked into wakefulness, shuddering and coated with sweat. My heart was hammering against my chest, my breaths wild and fast. I felt like I'd been ripped from my body, scrambled, and then shoved back in. It was not my first experience, and yet it was still just as terrifying. The memory was so vivid, so consuming, it was real. It wasn't just remembering; it was reliving.

Lifting a shaking hand to push my chocolate brown hair out of my face, I sat up, combing my long curls with my fingers. I tried to rid it of knots, but quickly gave up; I knew better than to mess with my hair in the morning.

I knew I wasn't going to fall asleep again; I was still trembling. I opened my eyes and stretched out my arms, somehow still tired. Sleep hadn't come easy; I couldn't have had more than a few hours. Groggy, I kicked my doona off the bed and began to extract myself from the mess of material most called a sheet. I wasn't very successful. In the process of escaping, I caught sight of myself in the mirror next to my wardrobe, directly across from my bed.

My pallid reflection stared back at me. I had what looked to be well tanned skin, but it was completely natural, inherited from my Native American ancestors. Fresh from sleep, my skin was a shade paler than usual; thank you, nightmares. I saw my hair was just as messy as I had predicted, my curls a big tangle that reached my waist. My green eyes and dark eyelashes blinked blearily as I looked; why was waking up always so hard?

As I attempted to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my eyes automatically went to the calendar hanging on the wall above my desk. I tried not to take in the date, quickly averting my eyes from the deadly piece of paper, but it was too late. The knowledge hit me with the force of a steam train.

May 26.

Having finally escaped my bed linen, I buried my head in my hands as I sank to the floor. How could a single piece of paper, a simple two digit number, be so crushing?

But it wasn't the paper, was it? It was what it meant. What it stood for.

Why, why, why? Why did my aunt have to die in the car crash? It just wasn't fair. Today, exactly one month after the tragedy, I was no better off than I was the day she died. I knew I would always be traumatized by what had happened, though part of me wondered if this wasn't a good thing. Perhaps it would help. Then again, maybe not.

I only wished I didn't have to be haunted by that day. It filled by dreams, forcing me to live it over and over again. Forcing me to relive for the hundredth time the ten second event that had killed my beloved aunt.

It wasn't as if I had nothing else to remind me of that fateful day; not even close. With a start, I spun to stare at the calendar, hardly daring to believe my eyes. I couldn't believe I hadn't remembered!

Today was the day. The day I had been dreading. All week I had worried myself silly over it, counting down the days, hours, heck, even the minutes, until finally it was here. But not just because it was the one month anniversary of Aunt Karen's death.

In just seven short days, a vampire was going to kill me. The same vampire that had, in fact, been responsible for the haunting car accident.

Today was the beginning of the last week of my life.

I remembered vividly the day I had discovered he was coming for me.

I had woken up two weeks after the crash, surrounded by white washed walls and the blurry faces of my family and friends. All were anxious, teary, and unable to believe I was actually alive. And I had to agree with them. Why wasn't I dead? And where was the sadistic vampire that I had been so certain was going to kill me?

Unfortunately, a single piece of paper answered both of those questions.

I had been lying in bed after everyone had been ushered out by the nurses; they had said I needed rest. As I had rolled over, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep - hopefully dreamless - my hand had brushed against something flat and square. Grasping the object, I had to my utter surprise pulled out a sheet of stiff, folded paper. Positive that nothing could possibly be worse than what I had just been through, I opened the paper with only a little apprehension. From that moment on, I vowed to always trust my instincts. Because they were nearly always right.

At first I could see nothing, the fluoro hospital lights glinting of the white surface of the paper. But then all of a sudden thick black writing jumped out at me, styled in perfect calligraphy.

_Don't think you've gotten away. I'll be back on the 1st of June. I've got something special planned before I kill you._

I had been wrong. It was far worse than I could have possibly imagined.


	2. Freedom

**Chapter 2 – Freedom**

It was 11am. It had taken me an hour to pull myself together, drag myself off the floor and get out the room. But I had managed it, to my surprise. Walking in to the kitchen, I raided the pantry for anything fattening, and emerged with pancake batter. It was perfect; full of fat, sugary and also gave me a feel good mood afterwards. Or maybe it was just the artificial colours found in food dye. Either way, I didn't really care.

I went a little crazy whilst cooking; I kept losing track of my thoughts and constantly found myself dwelling on vampires and countdowns. Before I knew it, I had more sugar than pancake mix in the bowl and the food dye bottles were empty. I looked down at my creation: the swirls of different shades of purple were mesmerizing.

10 minutes later vibrant purple pancakes that were cooked to perfection were being shoved down my throat before they reached the plate. They seared my stomach, but they tasted so good. I hadn't been eating well lately, normally only having breakfast; there was just something about reliving nightmares that left a sick feeling in my stomach. Today, though, I felt strangely... not sick. And strangely upbeat.

I mean, shouldn't I be more upset? I had one less day to live. Maybe I had finally cracked from the pressure. Maybe I was officially insane; not an exciting prospect.

But as my brother made his way into the kitchen, unlocking the windows and doors, I remembered; today I was finally released from confinement.

After the accident, my brother had been more than little paranoid. He had been adamant that I would not be leaving the house until I was 200% healthy. I had been utterly mortified to find myself let out of hospital, only to discover Matt wasn't going to let me out the house. Despite my numerous insistences of 'I'm fine', and more than one shouted argument, I had been unable to sway him.

Hence the fact that I hadn't left the house in over a week. But today; today I was free.

Today, after more than a month restricted to the hospital, and then my house, I was officially free.

Finally.

I couldn't hide my grin as he came into the kitchen; he responded with a distrustful look and a sigh. I knew what that expression meant; it meant he was bitterly regretting leaving me to my own devices. He was always so trusting; not.

Matt. I loved him like crazy of course. He was 2 years older than me at 19, and never let me forget it. He took his role as the older brother _very _seriously; too seriously, in my opinion. I think part of it was because we never knew our dad, and he felt he had to make up for that; through from what mum had said about our father, I thought it was probably best we hadn't known him.

Mum. My smile fell away the instant she flittered into my mind. God, I missed her; missed her more with every passing day.

It had been two years since we'd lost her to pneumonia. Two long years, trying to recover. To this day, I still felt the familiar stabbing pain of her absence; I knew that would stay with me always. After that, we had moved in with mum's sister; Aunt Karen. But then she, too, had died. Another family member gone. Another spot of sadness I couldn't seem to escape.

I had been born on the Quileute reservation, La Push, and had lived there until I was 8. Then mum had decided it was time to leave, and we had started our new lives in Seattle. It wasn't far from La Push, but it was a big city, and mum had family there. Or used to have family there. I had liked Seattle; had liked my friends, my life.

But it was just me and Matt now, right where we started. The same house too. I supposed that was why it was so familiar. The house was small and quaint, but I liked it. It felt like home; despite the fact that we had been here for less than two weeks. Permanently, at least. Matt had visited and stayed here several times over the last few years, ever since he had first phased.

Yeah, that had been a shock. To me, at least. Mum had expected it, but I certainly hadn't. To say my life had taken a turn for the interesting was an understatement. It had taken a while to adjust to the fact that my brother could shape-shift into a super-sized wolf. At first I had been worried about how things would change between us; at how being a wolf would change him. But to my surprise, over the last 2 and a bit years since his phasing, we had only grown closer.

And so it was with excitement that contradicted his slight worry that I happily walked over to him, gave him a hug, and raced upstairs. Though despite my happiness, I couldn't help but reflect on how there was no way I'd be allowed out of the house if he knew the truth; knew that a vampire was after me.

But I couldn't tell him. They say curiosity killed the cat; that was what I was. I suppose the mouse, quiet and hidden in the background, got to live. But while the cat may not live forever, the mouse does not live at all.

I would not be a mouse; I would not consent to being locked away from the world, whether or not my life was in danger. I would much rather live, and be free, for however a short a period, than suffer in a cage of any form.

Right now, I was free. And I was going to make the most of it.

Except for, of course, he growing and alarming list of issues that were facing me.

1. I had nothing to wear.

2. Though I knew names of people from Matt, I hadn't met anyone, so I had no friends.

3. I had nowhere to go.

4. I had nothing to do.

I stopped there, not wanting to complete the list. It would only make me more depressed. But despite everything, 15 minutes later I was emerging from the bathroom hopeful. The shower had relieved me of tension for once, and I had found myself enjoying the process. It was kind of like a shadow had been lifted off me; like a weight that had been on my shoulders had decreased. I hadn't realised how much effect lock down had had on me.

My anticipation building, I dressed quickly, simple in shorts and a yellow sweater. Dashing back into the bathroom, I perched on the bench in front of the mirror as I ran a brush through my hair, noting the familiar gleam of a silver chain on my neck. Fingering the polished silver, I gripped lightly the carved wooden figurine of a wolf that I wore around my neck; it was something I never took off. A gift from my mother, from some distant ancestor of hers, it was a treasured possession; so much so that I never went anywhere without it.

Giving myself a sad smile, I shook my head to clear it of the sudden sadness. Happy thoughts, I told myself. Today was a good day.

* * *

In a matter of seconds I was out the front door, inhaling the fresh scent of the forest and last night's rain. I loved winter; I loved the cold and the wet. One of things that had absolutely killed me this last week had been not being able to dance in the rain. But that was about to change.

Leaping down the steps leading from our porch, I collapsed in a pile, watching dreamily the leaves I sent flying. I jumped up, spinning round in circles on the spot, staring upwards. Watching the clouds and trees melt into a multi-coloured blur, I was happy. For the first time in a month I was out of the house, and it didn't matter that a vampire was after me. The sugar I had consumed for breakfast must have caught up. My laughter was loud and gleeful as it rung across the lawn.

Preoccupied in my joy, I did not notice my brother had come out the house and was leaning against the wall, watching me, clad as usual in simple cut offs. A smile was on his lips as he struggled to contain his amusement. Rapidly stopping, I turned to glare accusingly at him, breaking through his so called perfect control. Collapsing into fits of booming laughter, he was bent over double, clutching his stomach. I grinned idiotically.

You would think, being a werewolf, he would have lost his sense of humour to the severity of his duty, or would have least learned to control his temper; I had to yet to notice any change, for which I was glad. I had worried, now that he was my legal guardian, that we would lose our camaraderie; instead, we were close than ever. He had always looked after me; the only difference now was that it was official.

Deciding I had looked stupid enough for now, I turned my back on him, stalking across the lawn before I realised I didn't know where I was going. I jumped as Matt's hand grasped my shoulder turning me around to face him. His eyes were smouldering as he addressed me.

'Please, please, don't do anything too stupid. I can't follow you, I've got patrol. The rest of town is that way.'

Nodding, and with a parting embrace, I headed in the direction he had pointed out.

* * *

I spent a few hours wandering about town, visiting the only grocery store and not buying anything, looking through a souvenir shop and laying down on the beach staring up at the sky. I found the nearby forest calming, and all too soon I discovered myself drifting off to sleep. I relished in the sharp smell of salt that was in the air, inhaling it like a drug. Rolling over, I marvelled at the beauty of the sun glancing off the ocean, making everything around me shine.

Oh, how I had missed this. How I had missed the fresh air, the cool breeze, the faint sunlight. How I had missed the smells and sounds of the world around me. It was all too easy to forget my troubles, to forget my secrets, when it was like this.

After all, how I could possibly regret my decision, when freedom was so enthralling?

But while freedom was exactly as alluring as I'd imagined, freedom was also boring. I did not do well without a task at hand, without something to occupy me, and already I was fidgeting, bouncing and anxious for something to focus on.

And not entirely unexpectedly, I found relief in the trees.

As a child, I had been an adventurer. With no thought for the danger or the sense, I had thrown myself head first into every situation.

And so when I came across the majestic and towering trunk of a tree bordering the beach, 17 years of reckless exploration suddenly kicked in.

I couldn't stop myself from running my hands over the rough bark, breathing in the intoxicating woodsy scent that I had always been drawn to.

And I couldn't stop myself from positioning my hands on the lower most branches and hauling myself upwards.

It was too easy; it was as if my last climb had only ben yesterday. Years of practice and precision was flooding back to me, as I easily found handholds and footholds to aid my ascent. A glance over my shoulder at 7 metre drop didn't make my stomach roll, but instead left me marvelling at how lovely and luscious the forests undergrowth looked from above.

And then, too soon, it was over.

10 metres up with my back against the trunk, I was staring out into the ocean, sucking in lungful's of the briny air.

Home. This felt like home. This was familiar, comforting, ensnaring. I was consumed by the rush.

So much so that I didn't hear the tell-tale cracks and rustles of leaves that signalled someone's approach. I didn't see the tall Quileute man that emerged from the trees, clad only in cut offs.

And I had no warning whatsoever before he suddenly shouted up at me.

'Hey, girl in the tree!'

I felt like I jumped 10 feet into the air; who knew, maybe I _did_ jump 10 feet into the air.

All I knew was that I had jumped, and I had spun, and suddenly there was nothing beneath my feet.

There was no branch. No tree trunk. Nothing to grab onto.

There was only air, rushing furiously passed me as I fell, tearing at my clothes, filling my ears with its roar. I felt the sharp twinges of twigs and thin branches as I crashed through them, doing nothing to slow my fall, but only adding to my confusion.

Then there was the ground. The ground was rushing up to meet me, but I couldn't seem to process it. I was still reeling, still in shock from the sudden appearance of the man, and the sudden _disappearance_ of the branch that had keeping me safe. I watched slowly, distantly, distractedly, as I got closer and closer to the hard earth.

Until all of a sudden, I was slamming into it.


	3. Pain

**Chapter 3 - Pain**

I was at peace. There was no pain, no stress, and no worry. Just calming blackness. As I floated there, in that void between consciousness and death, I was strangely happy. I didn't have to do anything, I didn't have to care. It was a place that was purely mine.

I should have known by now, that nothing good ever happened to me. I was dimly registering the flickers of colour and noise breaching my mind, my happiness. There was a worried voice, loud in the silence that was unconsciousness. Before I could process anything else, I was hurtling upwards, out of the void, into the world.

Pain.

The earth was hard under my crumpled body, and my ears were filled with nothing but the sound of my rapidly beating heart, much fainter than normal. Shifting uncomfortably, I stifled a groan as more pain flared to life at my movement.

Bruises. I had lots of bruises. Pain seemed to be coming from every part of my body. In the distance I could hear a worried disembodied voice, coming from someone, a male. I tried to peel my eyelids open, blinking blearily at the blurry shapes that greeted me.

The rational part of my mind noted that that probably wasn't a good thing.

I groaned. The blurry forms were shifting, rolling, morphing into unidentifiable shapes. The whole affect was dizzying, my head spinning wildly in response. I groaned again as a piercing head ache made itself known, wondering what other ailments I was about to discover.

But as no other stabs of pain made themselves known, and my rapidly blinking eyes slowly managed to make sense of the still swirling shapes that filled my vision, I began to hope that maybe the aching pain that was permeating body wasn't going to get worse.

* * *

There was someone leaning over me, of that I was certain.

I just didn't know who.

My vision was not cooperating with the stern commands my brain was giving it, and was refusing to get rid of the blurriness that made staring at anything a dizzying and painful task.

Fortunately, the rest of my senses were being a bit a more cooperative.

The unidentifiable words that the worried stranger was speaking were making sense now; no longer the dull, inaudible gibberish they had most seemed.

'I am so sorry. I shouldn't have crept up on you like that. Are you ok?'

Excellent question. Was I ok? Did dizziness, aches, and a splitting head ache classify as being ok?

Maybe.

Waving a hand to dismiss his apologies, I pulled myself into a sitting position, supressing a groan as the world tilted strangely.

'Whoa, that was weird.' Closing my eyes for a moment, I started to reassure the worried stranger.

'I'm fine. It's not your fault. As soon as my head stops spinning, I'll be perfectly ok.'

Risking opening my eyes again, my vision partially cleared; enough for me to properly look at the stranger that was bent worriedly over me. He looked strangely familiar, though at first I couldn't figure out why. My brain was a bit slow on the uptake, but eventually I realised it was the short hair and muscled bare chest that was striking me. After all, how many people walked around shirtless in the woods unless they were a werewolf?

'Hey, you don't happen to know my brother do you?' I asked carefully; on the off chance that this man wasn't a shape shifter, I wouldn't be giving anything away. However, the stranger grinned, giving me a look that said he knew what I was really asking.

'Is that a veiled way of asking if I'm part of the pack?' Apparently relieved I was sane enough to figure out who he was, he settled back against a nearby tree.

'Yes.'

'That obvious?' I raised an eyebrow.

'You see anyone else walking around the woods shirtless?' He laughed, and I marvelled over the fact that I was getting along so well with someone I didn't even know the name of.

'True.' His amused expression faded as I shifted position, flinching at the aches that made themselves known. My head ache suddenly increased in intensity, as if to remind me that the man I was currently conversing with was the reason I was hurt in the first place.

'Are you sure you're ok?' His tone was worried, and I shrugged painfully.

'Headache. Nothing I can't handle.' Still not looking entirely convinced of my wellbeing, I decided a topic change was in order. If I knew my brother at all, then it was more than likely that this werewolf hadn't come across me by accident.

'Should I try and guess whether or not you finding me in the woods was coincidence or not?' I asked, and he grinned, not at all sheepish.

'Not.' I made a face, cursing under my breath.

'Did Matt ask you to follow me or something?'

'Not follow, though that wouldn't be beyond him. Just check-up on.' I pressed a palm to my forehead both in response to my protective older brother and the pain that was shooting through my skull.

'It's a wonder he lets me out of the house at all.' I muttered, and the man laughed again.

'Considering what I saw today, maybe he's justified.' I have him a betrayed look, glaring furiously. He held out his hands in a peace offering, quailing beneath my deadly look.

'Or not.' He quickly amended.

'I was doing perfectly fine before you came along.' I muttered, and he looked guilty once more.

'Sorry. Again.'

'It's fine. Really.' I had other motivations behind reassuring him of my health, apart from alleviating him of unnecessary guilt. My more prominent worry was what my brother's reaction to this would be; I did _not _want to spend my last seven days trapped in the house again. Downplaying my injuries was my best chance.

And it was the thought of being trapped for the rest of the week that was fuelling me as I clambered to my feet, stumbling as the dizziness returned at full force. Before I knew it, the man was there, steadying me with a concerned look.

'Stood up to fast.' I said with a fake smile, forcing myself not to show the fact that my head ache was now ten times worse. He gave me a distrustful look, and to distract him, I held out my hand for him to shake

'I'm Chloe.' He grinned, his large hand dwarfing mine.

'Quil.'

* * *

Despite my protests, arguments, and reassurances, I found myself unwillingly escorted by Quil through the woods. He was intent on taking me to visit my brother, when all I wanted to do was collapse into bed with a handful of medication for my still throbbing head.

I really _wasn't_ in the mood to deal with my brother's guaranteed panic over my fall from the tree, but unless I wanted to admit how terrible I was currently feeling, I was going to have to.

This was going to be a challenge.

* * *

'What happened?' Matt asked me exasperatedly, scowling as I walked in the door, his tone demanding. I was beginning to think 'scold first, question later' was my brother's new motto; he was always fast to assume something had gone wrong. I suppose he wasn't without reason, but leaping to conclusions every time I left the house was going too far.

'Nothing.' I said firmly, innocently. His disbelieving look and raised eyebrows said he didn't believe me at all.

'Nothing important.' I amended, but his analysing gaze didn't waver. He was impossible. Sighing, I collapsed in a nearby chair, my expression blank to keep from showing the sharp sting of pain that had hit me. Apparently deciding I was untrustworthy, Matt turned to Quil for answers, but I started speaking before Quil could start digging my grave.

'You see, I was walking in the woods, and I saw this tree-'

'Don't tell me you-'

'Excuse me, I'm telling the story here.' I said forcefully, giving him a fierce look. Softening my gaze, I continued.

'Anyway, there was this tree. And it was a really nice tree, because had these great low-hanging branches, and-'

'You climbed it, didn't you?' He said exasperatedly.

'Will you let me finish?!' I exclaimed, once again giving him a deadly glare. It was a fierce look that I had perfected over the years, but while it sent most people running for cover, my brother was unfazed; probably because he got it from me on a regular basis. Shaking my head, I went back to the story.

'So, this tree had perfect branches for climbing, and it had that really nice earthy smell that I love, and it was right near-'

'You're rambling.'

'I'm being detailed.'

'You're concussed.'

'I am not!'

'You wouldn't be so temperamental if you weren't.'

'It's only because you're provoking me.'

'I'm being concerned.'

'You're being overbearing.'

And so the argument continued.


	4. Escape

**Chapter 4 - Escape**

I woke up with the world's biggest head ache. It was like I'd been drinking for the last 24 hours, and now it was starting to catch up with me. Except for the fact that I hadn't been drinking. Instead I had fallen out of a tree.

Matt and I had bickered and argued for almost an hour yesterday after my return; him determined to get me to confess to being stupid, and me determined not to let him see how much I was suffering while he interrogated me. After what had felt like an eternity, he had finally relented, walking me home, where I had collapsed in bed with relief.

It was amazing how painful my throbbing head was, simply because I had fallen out of a tree.

Wow. That sounded really lame when you said it out loud. I briefly contemplated how incredibly stupid I had been to do that. You would think I would have realised by now that I was _not_ the brightest crayon in the box. I just couldn't help it. Impulsivity was a part of me, as was boldness, rejection of authority, and optimism.

However, none of those were present right now. The only thing I was currently feeling was pain.

Groaning, I slowly slid off the bed. Opening my eyes and glancing downwards, my vision was filled with a jumble of multi-coloured splotches. I felt my head spin, the blur of colour causing me to stumble forward blindly. Desperately reaching out for support, I grasped my set of drawers gratefully. As I steadied myself, my line of sight slowly began to clear. Though there were no coloured spots, everything was still blurry.

I managed to make out that I was still wearing my sweater and shorts, but they were in desperate need of a wash. I grabbed something from my wardrobe before heading into the bathroom, staggering like a total drunk. It was awfully hard to navigate when you couldn't see where you were going. Predictably, I had a few run-ins with awkwardly placed furniture, and I gained a few more bruises. Lovely.

I showered quickly, relieved when there were no major accidents as a result of my impaired vision. Sure, I had stepped into freezing cold water instead of hot, but that was nothing. Though the hot water had soothed my head and partially cleared my eyes, I still felt like I was being hit repeatedly on the back of my head with a basketball.

Aiming to do my hair, but only ending up burning myself on the straightener, I decided it was in my best interests to just leave it and get dressed. Examining what I had brought with me, I pulled on denim shorts and blue top. I took one look at my make-up - more like I tried to look at my make-up - before heading downstairs. I knew any attempt in eyeliner would result in a new species of panda.

* * *

Silence.

I couldn't hear anything except the quiet chirping of the birds outside. Matt must have left early again. Preoccupied my thundering head ache, I headed straight for what I thought was the pantry only to open the fridge. Humph. As I finally managed to get my hands on some medicine, I pondered what to do today.

I couldn't stay home... I'd done that all week. Plus I'd probably have some sort of fit over the vampire that was after me. Shivering, I directed my thoughts away from the deadly topic.

Despite my unfortunate experience with the tree yesterday, the green and brown of the trees bordering our house was looking awfully inviting. The urge to go outside and breathe in the heavenly smell of earth and nature was compelling.

It was just too strong to resist.

* * *

I lugged my bag along with me as I moved to the front door. I glanced quickly in Matt's room, double checking he wasn't home, before leaving a note on the kitchen bench.

In the few minutes it had taken me to get ready, the compulsion to go outside had grown exponentially. I was desperate for fresh air, because the windows were locked and I couldn't be bothered trying to find to key.

Ready and somewhat desperate to go, I went to open the door.

It was locked.

Huh. Glancing around for the key which was for some reason not in the lock where it always was, I knew it was hopeless. I still couldn't see properly, and if I couldn't find something when I wasn't impaired, it was practically impossible that I would find it now.

Sighing, I turned around, and made my way down the hall towards the back door. I had a terrible feeling of apprehension as I approached it, but I couldn't figure out why. Then all of a sudden I hit something hard.

My head began to throb even worse than before, and I struggled to make out the object that was the cause of my misery.

It was the wall. Whipping my head side to side, I tried to figure out what had happened. The wall wasn't new, was it? No, that had definitely been there a while. Though I suppose I'd only been living here a week. Then again, I could navigate the house no trouble when it was dark. Shaking my head at the bizarreness of my mental conversation, I continued to the door.

Turning the handle, I braced myself. I wasn't quite sure what I was expecting, but I had a growing, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Time seemed to stretch as I waited for the click before the door opened.

It was locked.

I stared dumbly at the door, willing it to open.

Nothing happened. Not that I had expected it to open simply because of my look, but with the morning I'd had, anything was possible. Overwhelmed at the ill fortune that had befallen me, I let head my head thump against the door. Once, twice, three times.

I now knew why my brother had left me all alone after our argument yesterday without posting a guard. He had been so worried that I had concussion; I had been surprised that he wasn't here watching my every move. He had obviously come up with a better idea.

He had locked me in.

I couldn't believe it. Was he honestly this obsessed with making sure I didn't hurt myself? And what on earth was I supposed to do for the day? Mope like I had done for the past week?

I knew that I had a tendency to do stupid things. It was fairly obvious, but that didn't mean that I was some crazy psycho that had to be locked in a padded room and supervised at all times! It was ridiculous.

I was still staring at the door, trying to comprehend the insanity that had befallen my extremely over-protective brother. We were going to have a serious talk when he came back.

It was completely and utterly ridiculous to lock me in the house because I had gotten a few bruises. As far as he was aware, I was perfectly fine.

And yet here I was locked in my own house. With absolutely no one who knew I was here, let alone anyone who would help me escape.

I took some deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I would need every ounce of my brain power to complete my mission. It wouldn't be easy; Matt knew I could be extremely drastic when need be. This was going to take everything I had. But I would do it. I had to.

My aim was a simple one. It wasn't long or detailed, or filled with a tonne of objectives that could go wrong. It was short, brief and to the point.

Escape.

Pivoting on the spot, I took in every item around me, searching for any possible means to escape. I let my mind go free, thinking, plotting, considering. I was going over every movie I had ever seen where a hostage escaped from an incredibly secure building of any form.

I sat on the floor, crossing my legs. I would need perfect concentration. And so I began to shuffle through the multitude of ideas bouncing around in my head like 5 year olds on steroids. So many plans, so many impossible ideas.

I could smash a window. But that would be difficult as Matt had almost certainly hidden every object capable of doing so. I had to stay away from such obvious solutions. Deciding a walk around the house might inspire me further, I clambered to my feet and began to wander aimlessly through the silent rooms.

There was the vacuum cleaner. Even I couldn't think of anything useful I could do with that. Perhaps I could pick the lock with a piece of wire? I sent that thought elsewhere as I tried to think of where I could find some wire. Breaking the door down wasn't an option. I doubted even my desperation could give enough force for that.

How about using the knives in the kitchen some way? No. I would probably stab myself in the process. I began to worry that I was running out of options.

Deciding that using wire was probably my best chance, I searched the kitchen, certain it was the most likely place to find it. Half way through my foraging I went to check the size of the key hole in the door, disappointed to see none of our knives would fit.

Moving upstairs, my hopes were low that I would be successful. I refused to give up though.

As I sieved through the contents of the few remaining rooms, my final hope was that somewhere in the junk sprawled around my bedroom, I would find my salvation.

Sifting through my drawers, I pulled out a number of items, none of them of any use. None of my jewellery pieces would fit the key hole, and my bobby pins all seemed to be mysteriously missing. Desperate, I went through my clothes, dreading that maybe I would be stuck in the house again. I even went through my underwear draw, but found nothing that could unlock the door.

Defeated, and still holding a bra in my hands, I sat down on the bed. I would have to stay locked in the house for _another_ day. Staring moodily at the pale pink bra I was turning over and over in my hands, I willed some form of solution to arise. And to my great surprise it did. Still staring at the bra, it came to me. An idea.

I stood up like I had been struck with lightning, marvelling at my incredible epiphany. Could this actually work? Running downstairs, my heart pounding, I searched the kitchen for a pair of scissors. I glanced down at my bra, mystified at the fact that it might possible help me escape. My fingers felt the long, thin bar of metal sewn into the material.

My piece of wire.

This bra was an old one, and I didn't wear it any more. So I felt absolutely no hesitation before using the scissors and cutting it up. After extracting the wire from what was now nothing but a disfigured lump of material, I did a sort of victory dance. Newly invigorated, I headed for the door, grabbing my bag on the way.

I held my breath as I inserted the wire into the key hole of the back door. As I manoeuvred it, listening desperately for the tell tale click that would signal freedom, I was almost bouncing with excitement. And then suddenly, I heard it.

A short, sharp click.

My fingers shaking, I clasped the door handle and turned it, ecstatic when it turned with no resistance. I swung the door open wide, taking a deep breath of fresh air. I relished the earthy smell of the forest and the trees, and ran outside, shrieking.

It was so wonderful. My bag slung over my shoulder, I danced across the lawn, filled with happiness. The sun wasn't shining, as usual, but it was amazing to see the clouds and open sky. Suddenly, today didn't seem like such a disaster. Sticking the piece of wire that had saved my life into my pocket, I ran forward into the forest, not caring which direction.

I was free.


	5. Stalker

**Chapter 5 - Stalker**

The crackle of the dead leaves that littered the ground was familiar and soothing to my ears. The tall trees that towered over me left me feeling small and insignificant, the seductive earthen scent of the soil and leaves swamping me in tranquillity.

It was just so wonderful out here. And despite this morning's earlier complications, I had still managed to reach the enthralling trees I had been eyeing from my window.

I wandered aimlessly, staring around me at the vibrant nature. Looking upwards, the branches of the giant trees made it difficult to see the sky, but through a small gap I caught a glimpse of the ever present dull grey clouds. Not for the first time I wondered if the weather did in fact tell of the day to come. Sunny would mean good, storms would mean bad.

Ploughing on the through the unorganised plants, I took in every detail of the forest around me. It was so...green. I could very easily imagine a castle appearing just to the right, or perhaps some evil, cursed lake just through the trees ahead. It was like something from a fairy tale, and I was amused by the fact that it almost was. What with the vampires and wolves running around, I was basically living in the story.

As I glanced at the small weeds struggling to grow, and the transparent dew drops that that covered everything, I let out an impulsive yelp of glee. For now at least, my life was perfect, and I was going to enjoy every minute of my freedom. My stride turned into a skip as I pranced through the trees, content.

Sure, my head was throbbing painfully, but after yesterday's incident, what would you expect? The sweet tune of birds chirping brought me away from my growing list of hurts as I listened carefully to life around me.

_Crack!_

I spun, suddenly serious and alert. There was something there, I knew it. My nerves prickling, I tried not to think of all the horrible things that could be hiding in the forest.

There was a shuffling to my left, and I began to tremble. Some evil animal could be hiding, just waiting to attack. I felt my heart pumping a million miles an hour, and I was suddenly consumed with an almost irresistible urge to get away. But frozen to the spot, I couldn't move a muscle.

I stared helplessly at the surrounding trees and bushes, but there was no sign of anything. There was no sound now, except for my own heavy breathing. My eyes searched the bushes for anything, anything at all, but I found nothing.

Had I just imagined the noises? Was I hallucinating? I didn't plan on sticking around to find out. With one final glance at the trees, I began to run. I didn't know where I was going, and to be honest, I didn't really care. All I cared about was getting away, and getting rid of the spine tingling feeling that someone was watching me.

* * *

Panting, my legs burning from the exertion, I collapsed next to a massive old tree, glad of the cool bark as I rested my head against the solid trunk, eyes closed. I didn't know how long I had been running for; long enough that I was beginning to question whether or not I'd made the whole thing up.

This whole vampire thing was making me paranoid. But still, I had to wonder about the wisdom behind wandering through the woods alone. Just because the vampire had promised me a week longer to live, it didn't mean tempting him to end it now was a good idea. Shuddering at the thought, I opened my eyes, glancing around warily.

One particular tree seemed to be laughing at me. I didn't know how a tree could laugh, and I couldn't hear anything, but I could tell it was mocking me. It seemed to be judging me, condemning me; it felt like it was watching me. Its accusing gaze was disturbing, and I was not in the mood. Struggling to my feet, I locked eyes with the giant tree.

'WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT, A FINAL ACT? DO I AMUSE YOU, TREE? YOU MIGHT THINK IT'S FUNNY, BUT I'VE HAD ENOUGH!' I shouted. This tree didn't know anything. It had no right to mock me.

'DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE, ALWAYS BEING STALKED BY CRAZY SUPERNATURAL MONSTERS? NO, OF COURSE YOU DON'T! YOU'RE JUST A STUPID TREE, AND IF YOU HAD _ANY_ IDEA THAT I MIGHT POSSIBLE DO ANYTHING ELSE STUPID TO ENTERTAIN YOU, YOU'LL BE VERY DISAPPOINTED!' How dare it insult me! It wasn't on any hit lists; it had no idea what I was going through.

I took a deep breath. My angry rant was over. Glaring threateningly at the tree I slung my bag over my shoulder before stalking off. It hadn't even flinched at my death glare. Then again, it was a tree; and I was officially an idiot.

Was there ever a day I didn't do something completely stupid? I had just lectured a tree. An inanimate, unintelligent, plant.

I couldn't help but laugh. I laughed so hard that I was bent double, my breath coming in short gasps. My laughter turned into a fit of coughing, and I took a few slow breaths to calm my racing heart.

But because I was so stubborn, I turned back to make one last retort.

'DON'T THINK YOU'VE GOTTEN AWAY WITH THIS TREE! I'LL BE BACK, AND I WILL GET MY REVENGE!'

Huffing, I stomped off once more, satisfied I had made an impression.

I had now used up my stupidity for the day. Hopefully.

Angry yet amused at my exclamations, my mood soon lightened. I began to hum, and my stomping turned into skipping once more. There were enough depressed people in the world without me adding to their ranks.

I continued on happily, content. I had flushed out all my anger towards the tree, and was focusing on the world around me.

That turned out to be a bad idea.

I told myself it looked familiar, but it didn't. I thought I recognised that tree, but I didn't. Eventually, I had to stop lying to myself and admit it.

I was lost.

* * *

I was terrified. The light was slowly fading as I ventured deeper into the forest, and I was constantly hearing noises from the bushes around me. The same rustling of branches, the same cracking of twigs. I'd tried singing and talking to myself, but nothing could drown out the sounds. I tried to delude myself that I was simply imagining the noises, but I just couldn't deny the obvious.

I was being followed.

The thought terrified me. I couldn't stop thinking of the crash, and the note I'd found. Perhaps he wouldn't wait till Sunday. It's not like he couldn't just kill me now; I was alone in the forest and no one knew where I was.

I heard it again; the rustling. The snap of twigs that told of the approach of a being, most probably not one I escape from. And then I heard something else.

Breathing. And it wasn't my own.

The huffs of whoever or whatever had been following me. I backed up against a nearby tree, not daring to make a sound. I could hear heavy footfalls, and the rustling seemed to be getting louder.

Fear was clutching at me like a vice, gripping my throat and stopping me from making a sound. My hands were trembling, my breaths shallow gasps, my eyes darting left, right and centre.

I hadn't been hallucinating or imagining. I had actually heard something.

As my stalker approached, I had almost no doubt that I would not live. I was either going to be murdered by the vampire, or attacked by a wild animal. Why hadn't I just stayed home? Maybe my brother was right; I needed protecting from my own stupidity.

It was getting closer, its movement easily heard. I saw a nearby bush shake, and I pressed myself against the trunk of the tree behind me. I heard my heart beating rapidly, thumping away as if it knew my time was up. As my follower emerged from the trees, I prepared a scream. I knew no one would hear, but I would still try.

I heard a growl, and I looked towards the sound. My eyes were frozen on the being before me. It was not, after all, the vampire intent on killing me. So if I did survive, I would die anyway in a few days time. Great.

The animal before me was enormous, almost my height. It had silvery grey fur, and brown eyes that appeared to be glaring at me.

It was also instantly recognisable as one of the wolves.

I let out the breath I had been holding, scowling at the animal that was staring me down.

'Are you kidding me? I've been worried for my life because one of you didn't have the tact to change human and _tell me_ you were following me?'

The wolf growled angrily, and I backed up a step in response.

That was a bad idea; because I was already backed into a tree

Stumbling as I unexpectedly collided with the trunk, my head slammed into the wood. I cursed under my breath, staggering as I was once again assailed by an ear-splitting head ache. The blurriness that I had almost gotten rid of was back in full force, and I swayed, the sudden dizziness overwhelming.

I guess I really did have concussion.

* * *

I heard a voice calling me. I was being shaken roughly by someone, warms hands clenching my shoulders. Everything was fuzzy as I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly.

My eyes met deep brown ones. I could vaguely see the outline of a broad, tall man with tanned skin and dark hair. The trees were a wash of green behind him. I had but a second to try and identify him before my vision went black. I felt my eyelids flicker before closing.

The shaking increased as the voice rose in volume. A warm hand was pressed to my forehead as my ears roared, my head pounding furiously.

It was relief that I slipped into unconsciousness.


	6. Imprint

**Chapter 6 - Imprint**

_Paul's POV_

I had been circling around this stupid house for ages. Every 20 minutes I would venture away and do a lap of La Push before returning and circling once more. About an hour ago I had given up, and now I was just staring moodily at the silent house.

I had begun to wonder if anyone was even inside the house. It was as silent as the grave, and no movement could be seen through the windows. The only thing that told me that there was someone inside was the slow, quiet breathing and the pounding heartbeat coming from an upstairs bedroom. The reason for my boredom.

How had I been so unlucky to have landed such a boring job? Why was Matt so paranoid about his sister? All the doors and windows were locked. There was no way she could get out of the house, she was human. And nothing could get inside either.

I didn't get it. Sure, I understood he was worried for her safety; that was nothing new. But did he always have to play the over-protective older brother? If he was so worried for her health, why wasn't he here?

When I had asked Matt why the heck I was watching her, he had answered 'to protect her from herself'. What the hell did that mean? Did she have some kind of mental disability? Or was it to protect her from her own stupidity? I quickly turned my thoughts away from her as I felt Matt phase to wolf.

_Is everything ok?_ I heard him think to me.

_Fine. I don't see why I'm doing this._

_I don't want her to leave the house._

_I thought it was locked up?_

_It is._ I felt him phase back to human form before I could ask anything else.

If I was human, I would have raised my eyebrows. How was one she supposed to break out of house? Pick the lock? I didn't think so. Fuming, I clawed at the soil beneath me with my claws. This was a total waste of time. Nothing was going to happen.

I shook my head roughly in a vain attempt to get her out of my mind. Glancing around quickly to check the house, I inhaled all the scents around me. Everything was normal.

Deciding there was no harm in having a quick nap, I lay down on next to a large tree. I still had a clear view of the house. Resting my head on my paws, I quickly fell asleep.

* * *

A low mutter of swearing reached my ears, rousing me from my slumber. It was coming from the house. About time. I guessed it to be about 9.00 in the morning, which was late, for me. I couldn't remember the last time I had slept in that long. By the sound of it, I wasn't the only one having a bad morning.

I could hear a faint banging noise, more swearing, followed by a repetitive thumping. Going downstairs I guessed. It was quiet for a bit before I heard movement from the kitchen. More silence. I began to drowse, certain there was no danger. I was annoyed now; I doubted I would fall asleep again. I once again found myself asking why the hell I was even out here.

Her footsteps could be heard going upstairs, and then downstairs again almost instantly. To me that seemed kind of pointless.

She headed towards the front door. I heard her rattle the doorknob, and then walk away. Well that was lame. I was hoping for some kind of reaction to being locked in. Anything to make this less boring. A loud thump reached my ears. I wondered what the hell that was from.

Movement at the back of the house - must be the back door. Maybe she wasn't a total idiot after all. I felt like a commentator as I followed her progress and listened for her reaction.

Three more loud thumps - what the hell? She was probably punching the door, or maybe hitting her head against the wall. I hated being babysat - that would be my reaction. Then there was silence, except for her deep breathing and beating heart of course.

I was disappointed. I had been hoping for some girlish tantrum or something to ease my boredom. She went upstairs again. God, I hated stairs. I could hear numerous things being thrown about.

Then, suddenly, she gasped. As she raced downstairs, her heart beating a million miles an hour, I could not think up any reason for her strange reaction. She headed for the door again. Did she think it would magically be unlocked now?

She was shaking the doorknob like her life depended on it. I took a sniff, and there was nothing out of the ordinary. The way she was acting, you'd think there was some axe-murderer chasing her.

What happened next shocked me.

The door swung open. It didn't make sense - Matt said he had taken the keys. Yet the locked door was now open. She was standing in the doorway, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

Then she ran forward, shrieking with happiness, bag on her shoulder. As she danced across the lawn, I couldn't help but laugh. She bent to put something gin her pocket, before heading forward into the forest.

Great.

Now, I would have to follow her. Grumbling, I clambered to my feet, shaking myself to get rid of the numerous pieces of grass trapped in my fur. Then I followed her into the forest, staying out of sight.

Why couldn't she just stay home like a normal, sane person? The door was locked for a reason, not that I knew that reason. How the hell had she opened it? I tried to clear my mind as I focused on her slim form as it disappeared into the trees.

* * *

Crack!

Ah, shoot. My foot snapped the branch loudly, and she whipped around, searching for the source of the sound. I brushed against a nearby bush, and her eyes focused on the bush, looking for something. But she couldn't see me.

She was trembling now, as she looked frantically for anything that moved. She gave me one final glance, before she turned and began to run.

Stifling a groan, I followed.

It was clear she didn't really care where she was going. I hoped she wouldn't get lost, because Matt would so kill me.

She collapsed against a large tree, panting, and I settled down quietly, hoping she'd stopped for good. She opened her eyes and glanced around, before standing up.

And then she started shouting at the tree.

'WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT, A FINAL ACT? DO I AMUSE YOU, TREE? YOU MIGHT THINK IT'S FUNNY, BUT I'VE HAD ENOUGH!'

'DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE, ALWAYS BEING STALKED BY CRAZY SUPERNATURAL MONSTERS? NO, OF COURSE YOU DON'T! YOU'RE JUST A STUPID TREE, AND IF YOU HAD _ANY_ IDEA THAT I MIGHT POSSIBLE DO ANYHTING ELSE STUPID TO ENTERTAIN YOU, YOU'LL BE VERY DISAPPOINTED!'

It was definitely one of the funniest things I had ever seen. I couldn't stop laughing, though I did try to be quiet so she wouldn't hear me. As a wolf, it probably sounded like I was choking to death. And she wasn't finished.

'DON'T THINK YOU'VE GOTTEN AWAY WITH THIS TREE! I'LL BE BACK, AND I WILL GET MY REVENGE!'

She then stomped off, which soon turned into skipping, accompanied by an annoyingly happy humming. I followed once more.

* * *

Light was slowly fading as we went deeper and deeper into the forest. It was becoming harder to keep quiet, and I was certain she knew I was there.

Especially when she suddenly turned to face my direction and pressed her back against the tree.

I decided to reveal myself. I had to. She was clearly lost and it was getting late. I was already in trouble - I didn't want to make it any worse.

I began to approach; she was clearly freaked out, and I didn't want to prolong her fear or whatever. She was obviously under the impression I was some crazy stalker here to kill her.

I emerged from the bushes slowly. It took me a second to realise I was glaring at her. She was, after all, the reason for my boredom.

She scowled at me, glaring right back. That was brave.

'Are you kidding me? I've been worried for my life because one of you didn't have the tact to change human and _tell me_ you were following me?'

I growled angrily, snapping my jaws at her. I felt a grim satisfaction as attempted to step back; I was the stronger one here.

But as I watched her slam her head against the tree and stagger away with a curse, looking seconds away from collapsing, all my satisfaction vanished in an instant.

Just as I had predicted, her next step sent her crumpling to the ground, unconscious before she could register my worried howl.

I quickly phased, pulled on my shorts and rushed to her side. I was so dead.

'Chloe. Chloe!' My voice sounded distant, and she didn't respond. Matt was going to kill me.

I was shaking her awake, my hands gripping her shoulders. She began to stir, and then, after much blinking, her eyes opened. My eyes met her green ones.

And then it happened.

Time stopped. I couldn't hear or feel anything. There was nothing but her beautiful, emerald green eyes. I was falling into them, those fathomless orbs that belonged to _her._

Then everything shattered, and I was dropped back into the real world.

I had imprinted.

I didn't want this. I didn't want to be tied down to someone, with no choice in the matter. This couldn't be happening.

Her eyelids flickered, and then closed once more. I gently began shaking her shoulder, faster as she didn't awaken. My voice rose in volume, and I pressed my hand against her forehead. Nothing.

I picked her up and began jogging towards town. She needed help. She looked so pale, and I desperately wanted to know she would be alright. I was trembling with fear, and I couldn't understand why.

Shaking my head, I tried to understand my feelings. This girl meant nothing to me 5 minutes ago. She didn't mean anything now. But then why was I so paranoid, so desperate to see her safe? Why was I suddenly so attached to her?

Because had imprinted.

My worst nightmare.


	7. Again

**Chapter 7 - Again**

_Chloe's POV_

I came back to reality in a daze. I went from a bizarre dream about being kidnapped by alien baggage handlers wearing glittery pink waist coats, to find myself lying on a couch with a searing headache. I almost preferred the former - at least I could see something. At the moment, however, my vision was filled with splotches of blurred colour.

After much blinking, I could see almost as usual, though everything was slightly blurred. I assumed this was how people with bad eyesight saw the world when they weren't wearing glasses. I didn't know how they survived; my head was spinning after a few seconds. So I just laid there for a minute with my eyes closed until someone came into the room.

'You're awake.'

It was Matt. I knew it would be. I could tell I was lying on our couch as there was an incredibly fluffy pillow under my head, which meant we were home. I loved fluffy pillows; just imagine the fur trimming of the hood on a jacket all over a pillow - so soft and fluffy. And as far as I know, I'm the only person in the world that is obsessed with fluffy pillows. I had FPF - fluffy pillow fanaticism - and I was proud of it. So we must be at home.

And if we were home, no one else would be there, as I was not supposed to be making contact with the outside world. For some reason I did not know, Matt was determined to isolate me. I had asked why, and all I got was 'it's for your own good.' How was turning into a hermit good for me? I didn't know, but I was still under lock down.

Which meant that Matt was the only person who would be here, talking to me. I was quite proud of myself for figuring out all this, despite my killer headache. I heard Matt move across the room towards me and sit down on the other couch before he continued speaking.

'Why Chloe? Why did you leave the house, go hiking in the forest, and once again come back injured?' My eyes were closed so I couldn't see his expression, but from his tone of voice could tell he was simultaneously annoyed and worried.

'I did not injure myself. It was the same injury, just more crippling.' I could almost see his exasperated eye roll, despite still having my own eyes closed.

'But that's not what's important here. What's important is how I got out in the first place.' He huffed, and I smiled. No one could annoy my brother like I could.

'Are you kidding? Can't you stay on track for one second?' He paused, waiting for me to answer. I was silent, so he continued.

'Yeah, I want to know. I took the keys, and locked everything. I was certain you'd be safe.' Ah, I knew him so well. I knew he'd want to know, if only so he could prevent it next time. I also knew he would be glaring at me, which was I couldn't resist a smirk as I responded.

'Well, it's a trade secret. I'm not telling.' He groaned.

'You're impossible.'

I made a noise in agreement.

'But why did you have to leave the house?'

'Do you have to ask?' He knew I hated being kept inside.

'But why did you have to go into the forest?' I was just about to answer when I fully realised what he'd just said. I replied slowly, thinking.

'How did you know I'd been in the woods?'

'Paul told me. He's the one who brought you back' I quickly went back over everything that had happened in my head. I'd been walking in the forest, I'd shouted at the tree, I'd-.

Yelled at the werewolf for following me. Oh. That explained it.

But what hadn't occurred to me yesterday, and I was suddenly realising now, was that the wolf was probably following me for a very precise reason.

Matt had sent one me the pack to stalk me.

Paul, whoever he was, had been following me, scaring the life out of me, and had brought me back to Matt and told him everything. And now I was going to be under house arrest; great. Dislike flared to life, but was squashed as something else occurred to me.

If I knew my brother at all, Paul was probably in just as much trouble as I was. Matt would likely be blaming him for everything.

Not a good place to be.

My brother had already been protective an intimidating, even before he had phased.

Yeah, that was definitely not a day I'd be forgetting anytime soon.

I had known the legends, but of course I didn't think they were real. It was a shock to hear my brother was a wolf - shock was an understatement. And I didn't exactly hear the news - no, it happened right before my eyes.

Something had clearly been wrong with Matt. He had grown half a foot in less than moth, leaving him almost 6 and ½ feet tall, with bulging muscles and an unceasing fever; not what the average 18 year old looked like.

So of course I had been worried.

The problem was, no one else was.

Matt was normal - he didn't seem to think anything was different. Mum wasn't worried either - she acted like everything was fine, like there was nothing wrong. I was alone.

Then one day, in the kitchen, everything changed.

* * *

Matt came into the room, heading straight for the pantry as usual. He ate like a maniac, always hungry. He was a bottomless pit that never got full. Stuffing his face with chips, he took out a glass, filled it with water and began sculling it. I watched with amusement, waiting for him to realise I was there.

He turned around, saw me sitting on a stool at the bench top, and his eyes widened in shock. He looked guilty as hell for a few seconds, until he realised it was me and not mum. I laughed.

He tried to say something, but his mouth was full of food, so all I heard was 'pewidawtuwermm' I laughed again - it was impossible not to.

'You're such an idiot Matt, seriously' I said, turning and sliding off my stool. I expected him to make a sarcastic comment back.

He didn't.

I looked back at him to ask what was wrong, and I froze.

He was shaking, his fists clenched, eyes thin slits that were glaring at me. He looked seriously angry, and I instinctively backed up until I was pressed against the back of the couch. All my instincts were telling me to run. And then it happened.

He exploded.

I screamed and fell to the floor. I couldn't see anything except the outline of a massive something in the room where Matt had been standing just seconds ago.

I didn't understand. I couldn't think. I blinked, trying to get a good look at the thing in the kitchen. It was then that I realised.

It was a wolf. A massive wolf, as tall as me, that had brown fur. It looked at me. It actually looked at me. Its eyes were a pale blue, staring at me. Eyes that were just like Matt's. It was then that I fully comprehended everything.

Matt had turned into a wolf.

I did the only thing I could do - I ran.

I went to Nissa's house; she was my best friend. She didn't ask questions - something I was eternally grateful for - she just waited until I was ready to explain. And that took a while.

I can only imagine what I must have looked like when I turned up on her doorstep, soaking, outside in the pouring rain. I'd been crying, and I don't think I said anything before I hurled myself into her arms. I couldn't remember much of what happened that night, but from what Nissa said I don't think I was very coherent. And so I huddled in the foetal position for hours trying to come to terms with events.

After many, many hours, I think I began to come out of hysterics. I don't know what Nissa thought had happened, but I knew I couldn't explain everything without completely breaking down. But I wasn't rational enough to even start thinking up a reason for my hysterics when Nissa spoke for the first time since I'd arrived.

'It's your brother, isn't it?' her voice was soft and certain.

I glanced up at her. Her pale face was filled with worry; she was the only one who I told about my brother. I nodded.

She sighed. There was a long silence where she seemed to be trying to decide whether to say something or not. Then she spoke.

'What happened?' I just started sobbing all over again.

I stayed there all night, crying. In the morning, I wasn't much better - seeing your brother explode into a wolf isn't something you can just recover overnight from. But at least I had someone to take care of me. It didn't last. After many hours, Nissa tried once more to get me to talk - it was Saturday, so we had plenty of time - but she hadn't been successful.

I'd finally fallen to sleep after eating, and once I woke up, everything seemed a little less overwhelming. It was then, with my slightly clearer mind, I began to wonder how mum was dealing with all me this.

I had a suspicious feeling that she'd known. It was irrational, and made no sense, but it stuck with me.

My brother was a werewolf and my mum had known he was about to become one.

I didn't know what to do.

I couldn't just forget everything and go home. I was still an emotional wreck; even just thinking about all of this was giving me a killer headache.

I had to admit I was still absolutely petrified. I had run for the door, convinced I was going to die. My instincts had screamed to run, to get away. Such an experience was one I couldn't just forget.

I collapsed on the floor in a mess of limbs. Tears flowed like rivers down my cheeks as I struggled over to the wall, resting my back against it, bringing my knees up to my chest. It was all just too much to deal with. I needed someone to explain; to understand. But there was no one. Nissa wasn't here, not that I could tell her anyway. I was truly, completely, utterly alone.

Then suddenly, there was a loud banging on the door. I looked up at it - I was only about 3 metres away - and did nothing but continue crying. The banging continued, and got more and more forceful. They were rattling the doorknob ferociously, and then there was a loud crack. The door was open in a flash, and then once again I was confronted with the supernatural.

Glancing upwards, still crying my heart out, I saw nothing but a huge figure in the doorway. Whoever it was reminded me once again of Matt, and so I cried even more. Heart-wrenching sobs that echoed all around. I couldn't do anything but cry.

A warm form appeared next to me, and pulled me into its arms. I didn't know who it was, and I didn't care. Only hours later, after much comforting, did I realise who it was.

Matt.

* * *

I dragged myself away from my ramblings and recollections, shaking my head to clear it. There were more important things than reminiscing that had to been done.

And first on my list was yelling at my brother was his complete over reaction to try and keep me safe.

'You sent someone to **stalk** me' I accused. I would have glared, but the dizziness that came whenever I opened my eyes was enough of a deterrent to keep my eyes safely closed.

'No, I didn't. I just made sure you didn't get yourself into any trouble.' I stood up and turned to face him, or where his voice had come from. My voice was loud and authoritative. In other words, I was basically shouting.

'YOU SENT SOME ONE TO STALK ME.'


	8. War

**Chapter 8 – War**

I was felt furious, but a distant part of me realised I wasn't really angry, more annoyed and disturbed.

It didn't make my urge to yell at my brother any less powerful.

Normally, at this point in the argument, I would be giving the victim my infamous death glare. However, today I was not able to due to the crippling dizziness, so I settled with something else.

17 years of honed and sharpened sarcasm and arguing skills.

'I cannot believe you! Sending some poor brainwashed minion of yours to stalk me, a poor innocent girl appreciating nature, since I have been trapped in a house for the past week, while you sit back and watch. Despicable!'

I was trying my hardest not to laugh. My innocent tone was anything but, and we both knew it. Besides, I couldn't help but think how stupid I must look lecturing my brother with my eyes closed. It was also extremely disorienting to not be able to tell Matt's reaction, or if he was even listening. To be honest, I didn't really care; I was busy absolutely owning my brother.

'I was not stalking you!' His reply was predictable; defensive, and of course he had the facts wrong.

'Of course you weren't. Paul was stalking me.'

'HE WAS NOT STALKING YOU!'

'Yes, he was. You clearly need to look up the definition of stalking, because you are sadly and incredibly misinformed.'

'I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS. IT WAS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD. I WAS ONLY MAKING SURE YOU DIDN'T GET HURT,' He shouted, clearly very pissed now.

'NO. YOU WERE JUST INVADING MY PERSONAL SPACE AND ONCE AGAIN BEHAVING AS AN INCREDIBLY OBSESSED OVER-PROTECTIVE MANIAC.'

'I AM NOT A WHATEVER MANIAC! I AM JUST TRYING TO KEEP YOU SAFE!'

'FROM WHAT! YOU'RE A WEREWOLF, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO MAKE SURE THE TOWN IS SAFE, NOT FOLLOW ME EVERYWHERE I GO!'

'I DO DO THAT! WHY DO YOU THINK I WASN'T THE ONE STALKING YOU? BECAUSE I WAS ON PATROL!'

Got him.

'SO YOU ADMIT TO STALKING ME?'

'NO!'

'Really? Because I thought you just said you weren't stalking me because you were on patrol!'

'EXACTLY! I WAS - wait, no.'

'Yes, you did say that, and you just admitted it. Which means I win!'

YES! Victory was mine. Again. I once again proved my unbeatable arguing skills were, well, unbeatable. Giving him a smug smile, I collapsed back down on the couch, sighing into the pillows.

Arguing with my brother was always so much fun.

Except when he was needling me about topics I'd really rather not discuss.

'You're eyes are closed.' He remarked; I had to fight hard to resist the urge to give him a disbelieving look.

'Really? I hadn't noticed.' I drawled. Internally, I was cursing. I knew exactly where my brother was headed with this.

'Is there a reason?'

'Should there be?'

'You're stalling.' Yep, he knew.

'I am not.'

'You've got concussion.' I frowned, not responding. That was all the answer he needed.

'Why do you do this to me?' He groaned.

'Excuse me, I'm the one with the pounding headache.' There was short silence, before the couch sank dramatically as he sat down next to me. I almost collapsed into him at the sudden change in weight, his warm hands stopping me. I felt something cold brush my wrists, his warm hands gripping mine.

'Matt, what are you doing?'

'Stopping you from leaving.'

'What?' How was holding my hands going to accomplish that?

It wasn't until he stood up, and the cold on my right wrist remained, that I heard the worrying snap and jingle of metal. Brushing a hand over my wrist, it took me moment to process what the cold bracelet locked around me was.

Not a bracelet, but a manacle.

Handcuffs, to be precise.

Yanking hard, I wasn't surprised to discover I couldn't move my wrist more than a foot in any direction. Fumbling with the cuffs, my hand trailed over a chain leading from my wrist to the arm of the couch.

I was officially trapped. I groaned.

'Are you really just going to leave me here?' I asked dubiously, and he laughed.

'Yep.' He sounded _way _too smug. Anger was growing within me, outrage blooming in my chest. Keeping my face carefully blank, I surreptitiously slipped my free hand under the coffee table; my fingers fumbling for an object that I hoped would be my salvation.

'Isn't that a bit extreme?' I asked, hoping to distract him as my hand grasped the handle of the weapon I had been desperately hoping to find.

'Not for you.' He replied.

'Should I be insulted or flattered?' I retorted, gripping the baseball bat tighter.

I whipped it out from under the table, leaping to my feet as I swung it in what I thought was my brother's direction.

Still swinging wildly, I smiled as I heard the unmistalable sound of bat meeting flesh. I lunged forwards, intending on striking again, but stumbled as I found myself restrained by the chain, cursing as I almost crashed into the coffee table.

Damn.

Opening my eyes, I was just in time to watch my brother swiftly disarm me of the bat, an amused and annoyed expression on his face.

'Nice try.' He said, and I made a face at him. He gave me a wave as he headed out the door, placing the bat carefully out of my reach as he went. I scowled, sitting back down on the couch with an angry expression.

It wasn't until I was sure he was gone that I let the grin I was repressing break through.

My brother may have taken my baseball bat, but little did he know that my _real_ escape plan was far more advanced and thought out than attacking him with a baseball bat.

After all, these handcuffs were _mine_, and I knew all sorts of tricks.

Including how to open them without a key.

I began to fiddle with the things, trying to find the pressure spot where you could unlock the handcuffs if you squeezed it and twisted them just right.

I was rewarded with a satisfying snick as they unlocked just minutes later.

Grinning, I headed upstairs, almost tripping up the stairs due to my still closed eyes. Fumbling around my room, I eventually laid my hands on a vibrant purple scarf, which I tied around my eyes without delay. With a silent prayer I opened my eyes.

I couldn't see well; obviously. Everything was purple and hazy. But I wasn't feeling dizzy and I didn't have a killer head ache. Yes! My idea had worked. I could now kind of see where I was going, and it was painless.

Yet another plan perfectly executed. Sauntering down the stairs, I couldn't get rid of my smile as I strolled out the doorway for the second time that day, again without permission.

What could I say? I didn't do well with obeying orders.

I then proceeded into the forest once more.

My brother was definitely going to kill me when I got back. But even that unexciting prospect couldn't stop me appreciating just how wonderful it was out here. Just like before, I found myself wandering aimlessly.

The trees around me were so tall, so giant, and so natural. There was no order, which I liked. Randomness made life so much more interesting. Everything appeared purple, which made it seem as if I had stepped onto some alien planet. I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't care. I could spend hours out here and think it was only minutes.

And things only got better as I began to sing myself, walking with a spring in my step.

_In the town where I was born, _

_Lived a man who sailed to sea, _

_And he told us of his life, _

_In the land of submarines, _

_So we sailed on to the sun, _

_Till we found the sea green, _

_And we lived beneath the waves, _

_In our yellow submarine,_

_We all live in yellow submarine,_

_yellow submarine, yellow submarine,_

_We all live in yellow submarine,_

_yellow submarine, yellow submarine._

I didn't really know the next verse, so I decided to repeat the verse I'd just done. Maybe I'd put on some funny accents. But just as I was about to continue, I was interrupted by someone's loud, booming laughter echoing amongst the trees.

I looked around, up and down, but could see no one. With the scarf impairing my vision, it wasn't surprising. Part of me wondered if I was hallucinating; it wouldn't be surprising. Shrugging, I continued walking, restarting my song.

_In the town where I was born, _

_Lived a man who sailed to sea, _

More laughter echoed around. Ok, not hallucinating then. I heard rustling in the trees behind me, and spun, but of course there was nothing. It was then that I heard a deep, amused voice from behind me.

'Having fun?'


	9. Dead

**Chapter 9 - Dead**

The voice was deep, and sounded just like that weird, super creepy voice the victim hears just before she's murdered by, well, a murderer. It was low, dangerous, and strangely seductive. How a voice could be dangerous, I wasn't sure, but this one sure as hell was.

After the first moment of shock wore off, I realised something.

OH MY GOD! I'M BEING STALKED AGAIN!

I'm. Being. Stalked. Again.

I repeated it just to be sure I'd fully processed it. I could feel myself trembling, whether it was because of fear or rage I wasn't sure, and my heart was beating like crazy. I spun around towards where the voice had originated, though I wasn't really sure why I bothered; It wasn't like I could see anything clearly anyway.

I wanted to think it was just another wolf that my brother had sent to retrieve me and haul me back home where he could once again shout at me for being reckless and stupid. But I had a feeling that it wasn't. It was a bad feeling, a vibe inside of me that was screaming something like _this isn't right_! Somehow, I knew this was not a member of the pack.

I was no longer singing - hearing a creepy stalker-like voice had kind of distracted me - and the forest was really quiet. Too quiet. The silence was pressing against me as I tried to avoid the little scrap of thought that had just popped into my head.

It could be him. I said _could be_ because it wasn't his voice. His voice was full of power, oozed much more danger and was never ever humorous. And so I was left floundering around in my mind, trying to come up with some idea of who my newest stalker was.

I considered the two, simple words he had uttered. 'Having fun?' he had asked. A seemingly innocent question, but when it comes from an unknown person who you can't see in the middle of the woods, everything seemed creepy. I couldn't detect any hidden meanings behind it, but I was no detective, so I probably wouldn't notice if there were any.

Should I reply? I asked myself. Should I answer what was probably a creepy paedophile or murderer? What would I answer? Maybe I should just pretend I hadn't heard it. But I had been standing here for a while now. So I couldn't do that. I decided to answer. I had sarcasm and a talent for arguing on my side.

'I _was_. And I plan to continue, so if you wouldn't mind just leaving me to my aimless wandering, I'll be going now.' I started forwards in the direction I'd been heading in before, but paused.

'Just in case you have less than good intentions, I should warn you that my brother _will_ kill you if I don't come back.' I started forwards once more, but couldn't resist muttering to myself.

'And he'll probably kill _me _for leaving the house in first place.' Cringing at the thought of his reaction, I was startled as the mysterious man's booming laughter suddenly echoed around the forest.

'You're very funny, you know that?' He answered, and I couldn't help but smile. It wasn't humour, it was sarcasm. Idiot.

'Really? I hadn't noticed. All my life I've been going around thinking I'm a complete bore, and now I find out I'm _funny!_ What a change this is going to be!'

'I'm so very sorry no one has told you. You've been missing out on so much!' He was playing along. Which was good, because he was clearly getting distracted, and thus wouldn't be thinking about hurting me.

It was then that I fully realised what I was doing. I was having a conversation with some random I couldn't see. Which actually wasn't that out of the normal for me. I shrugged and continued.

'I know. I'll get over it, I guess. Well, bye.' I might be strange, but talking to a stranger in the middle of the forest was dangerous, and I still had a bad feeling, so I wanted to get the hell out of there. I started forward once more.

'Don't go.' Those two words stopped me, and sent shivers through my spine. Somehow, I knew he wasn't going to let me leave. I was frozen to the spot, fear flooding through me.

I could hear rustling from the trees, and I knew whoever it was was coming closer. My brain was screaming at me to run. So I did just that. I proceeded into what turned out to be the worst escape plan ever.

I lurched forward, hopefully in a direction away from where the voice had come. Running straight towards them was not a good way to get away from someone. I couldn't really see where I was going. I probably managed about 5 metres before I found myself colliding once more with a tall, solid object.

'Ow! Not again!' I moaned. Staggering, I lurched into the tree for support, my head spinning slightly.

Couldn't I go for more than an hour without injuring myself?

Regaining my balance, I looked around, but couldn't see anything but trees. Big surprise. There was no sign of my stalker. But I could hear his loud booming laughter. I assumed he was laughing at me; there was no one else in sight. This, of course, pissed me off. I made a face, placing my hand son my hips.

'Yes, by all means laugh at me for crashing into the tree. Don't bother to offer your assistance or anything.' I wished I could glare to get my point across, but my eyes were out of action.

But not so much so that I didn't notice the tall figure that suddenly appeared right in front of me. I jumped, startled, stumbling again. The figure flashed forwards, a strong hand gripping my arm to steady me.

An ice cold, smooth as marble hand.

I flinched, recoiling with a gasp, tearing my arm out of his grasp as I staggered backwards. A shudder rolled through me, my heart pounding, my eyes wide beneath my scarf.

He was a vampire.

Panic. Panic seared through me. It was _him_. I had been right; he wasn't going to wait.

But wait. His voice. His voice was wrong, all wrong. It couldn't be him. It _wasn't _him.

It. Wasn't. Him.

But that didn't stop me from almost unintentionally hissing beneath my breath.

'Vampire.'

He stiffened, and I tensed in response.

'What?' His voice was careful, searching.

'You're a vampire.' I whispered, frozen. But then my voice hardened, strong as I stepped forwards.

'You can't be here.'

'What?'

'This is Quileute Land. You can't be here.' I didn't know what I was doing. My brain was screaming at me to stop provoking the vampire that could kill me, but my mouth had a mind of its own.

But my growing panic was abruptly squashed as the vampire threw back his head and laughed. He laughed hard, doubling over as the laughter rolled through him. I raised my eyebrows, despite knowing he couldn't see my confused and questioning expression.

'Wow, you are one _bold_ girl. Not many humans would try and order around a vampire.' I smiled weakly, still not sure whether or not he was about to kill me.

'But I hate to tell you; this is my land, not yours.'

'What?'

'You crossed the border, sunshine. You're on my turf.'

Damn.

'You're a Cullen?' I whispered.

'Emmett.' He said.

I groaned, swearing softly.

'Now my brother's _definitely_ going to kill me.'

And with that I turned my back to the vampire, before disappearing through the trees at a run.

This was not going to be pleasant.


	10. Brother

**Chapter 10 - Brother**

I sighed heavily, enjoying the sensation of blankets moulding my body, feeling myself sinking into the Mattress never to return. It didn't last; Matt's voice was a constant yelled lecture in the background. But spread-eagle on my bed, revelling in the comforts of my many fluffy pillows, it was easy to block out the never-ending tirade.

I must admit, my passage through the house last night had much resembled a zombie's; making a beeline for the stairs, staring straight ahead, ignoring Matt completely. It was easy; I had always been a proud supporter of selective hearing. It was one of my many other strange skills, and I employed the use of it now with great relief.

Still lying motionless on the bed, I contemplated my options. They were limited, neither very appealing. Both had benefits, but they were far outnumbered by the cons. It looked like it was a choice between bad and bad.

I could keep lying here, I wouldn't have to move, and I could go to sleep. But Matt would never shut up enough for me to sink into sleep, and he would be even more annoyed if I continued ignoring him. Or I could actually listen to bits of what he was saying, come up with some form of reply to shut him up, and then go to sleep. But that would require enduring the lecture and using my brain, which was really unavailable at the moment.

I had heard the saying 'the end justifies the means', but I didn't like it. Nor did I like the phrase 'the lesser of two evils'. Yet both applied to this situation. Resigning myself to the fact that I had to decide, I made a decision. It was obvious really: I would pick the one that would get me what I wanted.

Giving myself a mental slap on the head, I tuned into Matt's ranting. I didn't fully pay attention; I just listened in on segments, before tuning out, then tuning in again. He never ceased to amaze me with his ability to shout at me and come up with so many reasons why what I had done was wrong.

'-ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS!' Very worried, by the sounds of it. Like you always are.

'YOU COULD CAUSE SERIOUS HARM TO YOUR SELF. AGAIN!' I just went for a walk! How is that harmful? Though he didn't know that. All he knew was that I vanished and that I had concussion…

'WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?' I wondered when that was going to come up.

'ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?' Good question.

'DO YOU HAVE TO ALWAYS PUT YOURSELF IN DANGER?' I don't do it on purpose!

'WHY DO NEVER THINK BEFORE YOU ACT?' What am I doing now then?

'CAN'T YOU ACT SANE FOR ONCE?' I do. Sometimes…

'YOU'RE SUCH AN IDIOT!' Now that's going too far. Deciding it was time to intervene, I rolled onto my back and met his furious gaze. He had no right to call me an idiot, and I was not going to just lie here and take it without making a comeback.

'I'M NOT AN IDIOT MATT! JUST BECAUSE I DIDN'T TELL YOU WHERE I WAS GOING WHEN I ESCAPED FROM THE HANDCUFFS DOES _NOT_ MAKE ME AN IDIOT. YOU'D THINK IT WOULD MAKE ME SMARTER BECAUSE I WAS INGENIOUS ENOUGH TO GET OUT OF THEM! JUST BECAUSE I EMPLOY THE USE OF FREE WILL DOES NOT MEAN YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO HAVE A HYSTERICAL HISSY-FIT IN MY BEDROOM WHILE I'M TRYING TO FREAKING SLEEP!'

A long silence followed. And I mean a _long_ silence. Both of us glaring like there's no tomorrow, seething with anger. Matt trying to come up with a comeback, me backing up my exclamation. We were both breathing heavily, yet the look of complete shock on Matt's face was so hilarious I couldn't resist a weak laugh, despite the pain it caused. If only I could take a photo.

Dismissing my urge to try and find a camera, I hugged Matt tightly before turning my back on him, yanking my doona off the bed. I wrapped it around me, clambered onto my bed, and lie there once more. At last, I would be able to sleep. Hopefully.

After a few minutes, I vaguely heard Matt come over to the bed. Only semiconscious, I could just barely feel him watching me, before he abruptly turned and left the room. Unfortunately, he left the light on. Groaning, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, buried my face in a pillow, and fell asleep.

* * *

Someone was shaking me awake. Roughly, I might add. As I was rudely yanked from my much needed slumber, a rush of cool air met my skin as my doona was pulled away from me. I reached out my hands blindly, my eyes still closed, grabbing on to my soft doona, and holding on tight. More pulling.

A predictable tug of war ensued. I didn't know who I was opposing, but common sense told me it was Matt. Irritating me when I was tired once more, meaning I was unable to retaliate with any enthusiasm. So cruel. Moaning loudly, I could feel myself sliding ever so slowly closer to him as he dragged the doona and me with it. With a sudden burst of strength, I pulled with all my might.

I managed tug it back over my bare shoulders for perhaps a second before suddenly it was gone once more, but this time completely. Shivering, I conceded the fact that it was inevitable that I would lose. Human versus werewolf; it was obvious who would win. Clearly this was revenge from last night.

I opened my eyes to glare at him, momentarily blinded by the light flooding into the room. Blinking like crazy I was quick to find the instigator of my misery. My gaze was ice cold as it bore into him, only increasing the smug grin on his face. Annoyed by his happiness at my frustration, I glanced away towards the window. And was shocked by what I saw.

It was still dark outside, the orange glow of the rising sun barely visible over the tops of the trees that framed our house. There were still a few stars out, and as I watched they began to wink out, one by one. But I didn't have the time to appreciate the beauty of the sunrise. Because, well, it was _dawn._ Way too early to be awake.

'What the hell are you doing? Do you know how early it is?' I complained, able to come up with no good reason why Matt would have woken me up at such an un-godly hour. He may not need much sleep, but I did. It was one of my favourite past-times, and he had taken it away from me.

I glared at him once more, not at all amused at his ever-growing smile. He didn't falter under my gaze, and proceeded with much enthusiasm to reply.

'Don't be so grouchy, Chlo. Now get up, or you'll be dragged there.' He was telling _me_ not to be grouchy? He'd been so angry last night it wasn't funny, and he was telling _me_ off? That wasn't right. It was then that I processed the rest of what he'd said.

'Dragged where?' I asked, a feeling of apprehension creeping over me. Some sixth sense was telling me I was not going to like the answer.

'Out. Now come on.' He said cryptically, staring at me strictly. I groaned loudly. Why was he taking me out? It was too early! Clearly seeing my look of utter disbelief, he continued.

'You don't have to get changed, you're already dressed.' I looked down at myself. I was wearing the same thing as yesterday. I shook my head. I was _not_ dressed. Huffing, I told myself to move so I could at least be clean. I slid off bed, rummaged quickly through my dresser and headed to the bathroom.

'I'm not leaving without a shower, so you're gonna have to wait.' I called over my shoulder, entering the bathroom, and locking the door behind me. With a speed I'd never known I showered, still half asleep despite the pounding water. Dressing quickly in black leggings and a striped jumper, I began to brush through the tangled mess that was my hair.

Not bothering with make-up, I went back to my room to find it empty. Smiling, I grabbed my doona off the floor, got on bed and draped it over me. I was still really tired, and I was going to take every chance I got to get sleep. But just when I was about to sink into unconsciousness, Matt stormed into the room. With the same abruptness as this morning he yanked off the covers, glaring.

Sighing, I got up and headed downstairs, Matt trailing behind me, muttering a stream of words too low for my ears. Making a beeline for the couch, I was about to collapse onto it when he grabbed my arm tightly and steered me to the front door.

'Not today. You're coming with me.' I think he meant to sound gruff and strict, but there was humour in his voice as he chided me. Smiling at his failed attempt, I did not immediately notice that we had entered the woods. But the sudden gloom brought me back to my mission to discover our destination. Considering that he had presented me with no clues whatsoever, my chances of guessing were slim.

I let my mind dwell on other things as we journeyed to wherever we going. Such as how much I longed for sleep, and whether or not I would be able to sleep where we were going. I didn't bother to stifle my yawns, but Matt seemed not to hear them. I decided to see how long I could stare at him before he noticed me.

Fixing my gaze on his face, I couldn't help but wonder at his expression. It was full of purpose, and he seemed to be contemplating something. He glanced towards me then, and smiled at me as I yawned once more, still staring. He turned away, then back again. I was still staring. He stared in return.

It wasn't awkward. At least, not until I stumbled and fell into a tree. Matt laughed then, and it echoed around the forest. I swore under my breath as I righted myself and continued following him. He could have warned me, but it was probably payback. Then I noticed something; he wasn't holding me anymore.

A stroke of inspiration hit me. A brilliant idea, one too good to let pass. I ran forward, and launched myself at Matt's back, scrambling for a hold. I felt him tense at my attack, laughing with me as he realised what I was doing. He grabbed my legs, and mentally I did a victory dance. Piggyback! I got to celebrate for maybe 3 seconds before he dumped me unceremoniously onto the forest floor.

Glaring up at him, he shrugged at my accusing look.

'You asked for it.' His snide comment infuriated me, and I began to plan revenge. Clambering to my feet, I followed him. I was still glaring. It was then that I realised I was glaring. And I wasn't seeing spots or feeling like I was going to faint! I was no longer visually impaired! Yes! This made the future look so much brighter.

I was surprised Matt wasn't keeping control of me like before. I wasn't complaining; it was just what I wanted. Because I now had my plan.

I stopped. I wanted to see how long he would continue for before he noticed I was no longer trailing behind him. I didn't have to wait long. Only 10 metres away from me, he paused, and turned to face me. He had an amuse expression on his face, which soon turned into exasperation as I began to slowly back away, praying that I wouldn't collide with a tree.

Of course exactly that happened. My back hit the solid trunk of a tree with a thump, and I winced. Then I ran, shrieking and laughing as I wound my way through the trees, Matt chasing after me. He was gaining on me, of course; he had super werewolf strength, and I was not meant to be active until midday. So the outcome of my clearly doomed plight was inevitable.

He soon caught me, wrapping his massive arms around my slight frame, lifting me off the ground. I was giggling like crazy, but Matt's laughter was a bit more controlled. He actually managed to compose himself long enough to give me a stern glare and scolding before he started off once more, his hand securely grasping my arm this time.

Before long we approached a house that seemed to appear out of nowhere. It was small and quaint, and was obviously our destination. It looked strangely familiar, and I wondered briefly if this was the same house Quil had directed me to just days before. If only my brain was actually awake enough to figure it out. Unfortunately, I had used up all my energy in the chase, and the only thing that was on my mind was finding somewhere to sleep, and fast.

So when Matt entered the house without announcing our presence, I didn't wonder why; instead my eyes were searching the house for all available spots for sleeping. Locking on to dark blue couch situated not 5 metres away, I felt my face light up with joy. It didn't matter why I was here as long as I could get on that couch.

Matt had let go of my arm when we had entered, probably having decided I wasn't going to do anything else. Upon crossing the threshold, he made straight for the kitchen on the right, expecting me to follow suit. I, of course, did no such thing. Making a beeline for the couch, I collapsed onto it with a grateful moan.

Laughter followed my collapse, sparking my curiosity about who else was here. Peeking over the edge of the couch drowsily, I caught sight of Matt standing with two tall, buff Quileutes, both of which were obviously wolves.

And one of which was familiar.

'Hey Quil.' I murmured sleepily, giving him a half-hearted wave.

And with that, I unceremoniously and instantly fell asleep.


	11. Trouble

**Chapter 11 - Trouble**

Something was poking me. Repeatedly.

I moaned my displeasure, shifting position.

That earned me a sharp jab to the stomach.

Blinking in surprise, I blearily opened my eyes to look at the cute little girl staring at me in fascination. She waved at me with a smile, and I gave her a hesitant wave back. Rubbing my eyes, still feeling tired enough to sleep for the rest of the day, I didn't notice that Quil was approaching until he suddenly plopped himself down next to the toddler.

'You awake yet?' I scowled, making him laugh. 'I'll take that as a no.' I glared, but it was weak; I could barely even keep my eyes open.

I probably would have fallen right back to sleep if Quil hadn't suddenly and cruelly stolen my pillow from me.

I immediately protested, throwing my head back as I moaned. 'Quil, give it back!' I said angrily and blearily, motioning for him to hand it over. He shook his head with a grin.

'Nope.' He popped the 'p', and I levelled him with a deadly glare. His eyes widened, his expression one of surprise at my sudden ferocity.

But he still didn't hand over the pillow. He dangled it tantalising over my head, looking deceptively innocent as he grinned. I scowled.

And then I leapt.

Latching onto the pillow with both hands as Quil whipped it away from me, I narrowly avoided colliding with the girl, who was watching our exchange with interest. Instead I found myself slamming into Quil, face to face with him as we tussled.

'Give it back!' I snarled. Another infuriating grin as he yanked it from my grasp, dancing backwards away from me. I gave him a fierce look, placing my hands on my hips as I stared him down.

'Don't make me wrestle you for it.' I threatened. Quil shook his head in response.

'You wouldn't.' I smiled deviously, making Quil's previously certain expression wary.

Oh, I would.

* * *

I was woken up to the shrill sound of a shrieking toddler. Not that I could see the origin, but there was only one type of being that could make such a high-pitched irritating sound. Sighing heavily, still clutching the pillow I had torn from Quil's hands, I lifted my head to survey the area around me.

There was woman in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled like heaven. Embry – who I had met a few days earlier after the tree incident – was in a nearby arm chair, clearly in the same predicament as me. At least I wasn't the only one that had been roused from slumber. And there was Quil, beaming like an idiot as he held a screaming toddler, the source of my misery.

Groaning, I sat up, staring moodily outside. It was, as usual, cloudy. The forest looked quite forbidding in the dull light that shone through the clouds. It was impossible to guess the time, but I estimated only a few hours had passed.

Mumbling to myself, I made my over to the table and sank into a chair. It brought me closer to Quil and the little girl from before, but I was starving and there was a huge plate of muffins on the table that I just couldn't resist.

It was whilst I sat there nibbling on a muffin that I began to contemplate the reason I was here in the first place. After locked doors and handcuffs had failed to deter me yesterday, my security had been advanced to a house full of werewolves; which actually didn't bother me that much. At least I had company. Even if I didn't know who it was. Suddenly realising I had yet to determine the name of the girl that was again staring, my curiosity got the better of me.

'Who's this?' I asked Quil.

'Claire.' He said the name with such love and adoration, and it caused him to smile once more. The name, plus his strange actions, triggered a memory of my brother describing imprinting to me. From what I'd seen, it was clear that this was Quil's imprint. He hadn't struck me as the type that would smile so adoringly simply because of a toddler.

We soon struck up conversation, and after a while Embry joined us. We laughed a lot, and played games with Claire, which Embry did not deign to participate in.

'Come on Embry.' I pleaded. He was extremely opposed to joining our games. He said it was unmanly and degrading. Spoilsport.

Having seen Quil with Claire, it was hard to consider imprinting as a bad thing. When first described to me, I had had mixed opinions. It took away choice; it controlled you. But it bound you to your soul mate; the one you are destined to be with. Seeing it, I was leaning more towards approval. Anything that brought such happiness couldn't be a bad thing.

Throughout the day, people came and went from the house, which I had been correct in guessing was Sam and Emily's. When I had asked, Embry had explained it was a sort of wolf HQ. A strange analogy, but it worked. People were coming and going, changing shifts. Many came for Emily's cooking, which was fabulous. The atmosphere was great; the wolves thought of each other as brothers, and so got along well.

Soon our conversation turned towards members of the pack. It was interesting to hear that Matt was thought to be quite angst ridden. Though I supposed it wasn't surprising, considering how often he was annoyed with me.

I couldn't help but ask what had happened when Matt had found out I'd left the house yesterday. True to my expectations, he had apparently gone ballistic, shouting his head off at Paul, which soon turned into a fight. I wondered if Paul was angry with me for causing the argument. Matt had blamed him for everything.

Little did I know I would have a chance to find out less than a minute later.

Someone entered the room. That he was tall was the first thing I noticed. He towered over me, making me feel incredibly small and insignificant in my position sitting on the floor with Claire. Almost 6 1/2 feet tall, he was extremely buff, his toned muscles and russet skin more than easy on the eyes. Craning my neck, I caught a glimpse of his face, and the expression it bore.

His brown eyes were the first thing I noticed; they were deep and dark, complementing his short cropped hair that was as black as midnight. My eyes traced the contours of his arms again, some distracted part of my mind noticing he was wearing only cut-offs. I didn't know why the fact that he was shirtless had an effect on me; all of the wolves wore as little clothing as possible. But despite my constant exposure, I couldn't tear my eyes away.

He was just so good looking.

Forcing myself to glance upwards, not wanting to stare, I was utterly unprepared to find myself locked in his deadly gaze. His dark eyes pierced me like an arrow through the heart, and certainly rivalled my death glare. I heard my breath catch, my heart pounding furiously at the fierceness of his expression.

I knew without a doubt, as if I had a sixth sense, that this was Paul, the most volatile pack member. I needed no other proof than his facial expression. He was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, but the look on his face was scary as hell. It was impossible to describe his reaction as he realised who I was, but I knew instantly that I had to escape. His eyes flashed dangerously, meeting mine with a ferocity that stole my breath.

He looked like he was about to kill me.


	12. Confrontation

**Chapter 12 - Confrontation**

I was still sitting there, mentally swearing and floundering around to find someway to save myself, when something yanked hard on my hair. And it hurt. A lot. It was so painful that it actually distracted me from the fact that Paul was glaring daggers at me like there was no tomorrow.

'MOTHER-' I shouted, but I hurriedly stopped myself from saying what was definitely inappropriate for a two year olds ears, and quickly changed to a more appropriate string of curses. It was less effective in venting my anger, but still worked.

'JESUS CHRIST! Who the _hell_… ' I glanced down, and trailed off. Because adorably curled up on my lap was Claire, gently tugging on strands of hair, the clear culprit. And definitely not someone I could get pissed off at. Her back was resting against my stomach, her legs clutched to her chest, as she looked up at me, her eyes shining.

Any thoughts I might have had about scolding her vanished into little puffs of smoke as she gazed up at me smiling and giggling, still tugging on my hair, though a lot less forcefully, thank god. Because I was certain that I would not have had the heart to tell her to stop; she was just having so much fun. Smiling in return, I was relieved to see that she seemed to have not heard me shout. Not that I understood how she hadn't.

Everyone else, however, was a different matter. There was definitely a reaction coming from the kitchen, and it consisted of snickers and not really stifled laughter. Glancing in their direction, I glared. Which only resulted in their snickers proceeding into all out laughter.

Shaking my head at them, I returned my attention to Claire, taking a strand of her hair in fingers and twirling it around. She giggled, copying me as she continued to play with my hair. It was only when the shadow that had been over us moved away that I remembered Paul.

I quickly looked upwards to where he had previously been standing, but the space was most definitely vacant. My eyes scanned the room briefly, but with the pack of bodies that were crowding around the table, it was impossible to separate one from the rest. Shrugging, and telling myself he mustn't be too mad at me if he hadn't even said anything, I let it go. I had enough problems without adding him to the list.

Not that there was a list. Or multiple problems. Because there wasn't. There was just one issue, and it could be summed up in less than ten words. A pissed off vampire was going to kill me. I think it's pretty self-explanatory. Shaking my head as if physical motions could actually remove the thought from my brain, I firmly turned my attention to less depressing matters.

Claire was looking up at me once more, a pleading look in her eyes. I knew what she wanted. After all, she had been begging for almost an hour. She was still playing with my hair, tugging on it frantically. Not gently anymore, I might add. Wincing, I met her gaze, trying not to swear, only to be locked in her deep brown eyes. I knew now that I couldn't refuse. Those puppy dog eyes were killers; they took away one's choices and would not allow refusal.

I sighed, resigning myself to her mercy. 'Okay.'

Her reaction, of course, was to shriek loudly and happily, hugging me tightly with her small arms.

'But be careful. I'm not indestructible like those weirdos over there.' I warned, pointing in the direction of the boys gathered around the table. She nodded quickly, giggling. Lifting her from my lap, I prepared myself.

'You're a force to be reckoned with, Claire. Don't ever forget that.' She looked confused at my statement, but nodded quickly in response, giggling.

'And don't tell them I what I said about them. It's secret girl stuff.'

* * *

I was lying on the armchair; well I kind of was. Did it count as lying if it wasn't long enough to stretch out on, even if your head was hanging off the end turning your face red? Because that was what I was doing. My neck resting on the arm of the armchair, my body awkwardly arranged, and my feet dangling off the other arm.

But despite the apparent uncomfortableness of the position I was currently holding, I was more or less, well, comfortable. I didn't know much about couches or armchairs - I did, however, know a lot about pillows - but this one was pretty damn soft. Which was much appreciated when someone was in my current predicament.

People say that children are small and cute, not able to inflict harm, protect themselves or do anything for themselves. They were so wrong. Because in this case, Claire, a two-year old toddler with the cutest smile, was easily able to accomplish all three.

A killer smile and puppy dog eyes that instantly enslaved equalled a force of mass destruction. Her victims were many, I being the most recent. In fact, I was still a victim. And she wasn't working alone. She had enlisted the help of Emily, something I hadn't yet determined to be a good or bad thing.

And so I restarted my efforts to get a glimpse of what was happening to me, even though I knew for certain that it was physically impossible. I would just have to wait until they had finished to see how my hair had been styled.

That's right. Claire and Emily were doing my hair.

I didn't know whether it looked good or not, or if they'd actually done something other than tug on my hair and knot it. Claire had begged for an hour, and eventually, I had caved. As I felt a sharp pull, I returned to my wondering of what exactly they were doing.

I must admit, I was a little worried. Claire had started off on her own, doing god knows what, giggling like crazy. They wouldn't let me have a mirror to see what they were doing, even though I had argued incredibly persuasively. They were adamant that it be surprise. I could only hope Emily would be able to somewhat control Claire.

Behind my head, I heard Claire gasp, and then squeal. A terrifying sound. I could not mask the look of horror that claimed my face, which sent Embry and co. into a large bout of laughter. Majority of the household had ignored me at first, but now most were watching the proceedings with great enthusiasm.

Embry and Quil had watched from the start, taking over the couch - much to my dismay - and leaving me on the armchair. What had been shocking, though, was the fact that a third member had joined the party that was styling my hair. Emily and Claire were now accompanied by Quil.

It was almost unbelievable. I would pay money to see a guy volunteer to do a girl's hair, and yet Quil did so like it was a daily routine. At first I had thought he was going to stop them. Hope had spread across my face, only to turn into complete and utter shock as he gave advice and helped as if it were nothing abnormal. He and the others had almost collapsed with laughter at my surprise and feeling of betrayal.

Then, finally, I heard the words I had been waiting to hear with much anticipation.

'All done.' Emily announced proudly, and I almost jumped off the couch in my hurry. As I sat up, the blood rushed down from my head to the rest of body, leaving me dizzy, swaying slightly. My hand itched to run through my hair, but I didn't; I knew that would result in three people shouting their heads off at me for ruining my hair.

Speaking of, I really wanted to know what it looked like. I glanced over to Claire, Quil and Emily, but they didn't say a word. They were all staring at me, silent as a grave. It was then I realised that it was quiet. Too quiet. There had to be at least six people in the house, and no one was making a sound. I knew before I looked that they would all be staring at me.

I was no stranger to weird looks. Hell, I had been the receiver so often that I almost enjoyed them. Definitely not something that anyone _sane_ would do. But nether-the-less, when people glanced at with a big _what the hell?_ expression, it never failed to make me smile.

This was different though.

But I wasn't going to waste time sitting there puzzling over yet another strange factor in my already strange life. I was too preoccupied scanning the room for something, anything that would show me my reflection. I hadn't spent an hour lying on the armchair to not care what they had done.

'Pwetty.' I heard Claire say, pointing at me. That was _not_ comforting; I knew she'd say the same thing if I was bald. Thankfully, Emily handed me a mirror before I could ask. Everyone looked at me eagerly, waiting for my reaction. Without hesitation, I raised the mirror, and looked at myself.

A few strands of my hair had been plaited and were hanging, framing my face. The rest had kinda-sort-of-not-really been massed in a lump on head, and looked like it was going to fall apart any second. But what shocked me the most was the total overload of clips that were positioned _everywhere_.

Fluoro bobby pins of every colour held the pile in position, and flower clips had been pinned in various spots. A section of hair at the front had been swept to the side like a fringe, and the pins that held it in place were completely covered in diamantes. It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen.

I spluttered, trying to think of something to say, but soon collapsed into laughter. This seemed to be the cue for everyone else to return to normal, and start laughing as well. Placing the mirror down, I scooped Claire up into my arms, trying not to smile at the hurt expression on her face. She was clearly under the impression that I didn't like it.

But I did. It might not be beautiful, but it kinda looked good on me. And so I whispered into her ear softly, 'I love it. It's beautiful.' And it was, depending on what you considered to be pretty. The wolves, with their super hearing, easily heard my comment, which brought on a fresh bout of snickers and laughter. They didn't agree.

Smiling, I handed Claire over to Quil, and approached the table. They could think what they like; it didn't bother me. But my eyes had caught sight of the muffins that had just been placed down, and I was dead set in getting my hands on one; I was starving. Reaching out my hand for the final muffin - the rest had already been taken by the wolves - I grabbed it; but at the same time as someone else.

I glanced upwards, glaring. And did a double take as I locked eyes with _him_; Paul. Mentally cringing, I prepared myself for what was sure to become a shouting match.

'That's my muffin.' My voice was cold and demanding. I saw a flash of shock race across his face at my statement; he hadn't expected me to stand up to him. But he quickly regained composure.

'No, it's not.' He said. Huffing, I replied.

'Yes, it is. _I _was here first.'

'It's mine!' He hissed, defensive. I did _not_ expect that kind of reaction.

'Um, _no_. It's _mine_.' I tugged slightly on the muffin, shaking it to get his hand off. My idea definitely did not go to plan.

He responded, of course, and with his super strength I didn't have a chance. Before I knew it I was yanked towards him, and I found myself flying into him, pressed against his chest. He towered over me, glaring, seething with anger. I glared back. I could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, and tried to push myself away from him.

He only pulled me closer, both us still clutching the muffin. It was weirdly intimate; definitely a personal bubble invasion.

'Let go of the damn muffin!' He hissed angrily, his other hand grabbing my shoulder. He was trembling now, and I knew I was in danger.

'NO! LET ME GO!' I shouted, struggling. Despite the fact that there were at least four other people in the room, it seemed as if everything was happening in our own little air pocket. I could sense others approaching as his shaking increased, but they seemed distant; too far away to help.

'NO. JUST GIVE ME THE FRICKIN MUFFIN!' His hand was tightening, and shivers of pain spread through me. I faintly heard shouting, and my own whimper.

'STOP IT! PAUL!' I yelled. Suddenly, he was wrenched away from me, and I staggered backwards, my eyes still locked on his. I saw several wolves restraining him as I backed away. With a shout, he broke free of them, thundering towards me.

Turning, I ran down the hallway, not really knowing where I was going, just wanting to get away. Everyone was shouting and yelling, except now the sound was overwhelming. I was filled with terror, trembling as I entered a bedroom. Why the hell was he after me? I glanced behind me, but I couldn't make out who was who. Scanning the room, my eyes rested on the open window, and I raced forward, swinging one leg over the window sill.

Was I really going to jump? Did I have a choice? The shouting from the hallway made my decision for me. I swung my other leg over, and twisted so my stomach was resting on the sill. Just as I was to pull my head out, Paul stormed into the room, shaking like crazy. His cold brown eyes glaring at me, he shouted something incomprehensible. Yelling, I flung myself backwards, dropping down.


	13. Unexpected

**Chapter 13 - Unexpected**

_Paul's POV_

I snapped my hand towards the muffin, the final one on the plate. Already I could taste it, the deliciousness that it was and soon would be; or maybe that was the muffin already stuffed in my mouth. Impatience swirled up within me, my stomach yearning for the food, desperate for more. Yet somehow, in the second between me not holding the muffin and shoving down my throat, someone intervened.

My hand grabbed the muffin; but I wasn't the only one. Another hand, much smaller than mine, was also holding the muffin; and my eyes quickly flicked up to the face of the girl.

It was _her._

The stupid girl I couldn't get out of my head, who had been mentally invading my mind for the last 30 or so hours. And _she_ was glaring at _me,_ like _I_ had committed a crime. Like she wasn't the one driving me insane, stalking me in my sleep. _She_ was the one who had committed the crime.

She continued to accuse me with her eyes as we locked gazes. The sight of her brought unwelcome thoughts to the front of my mind, images of her, one after the other. Repeating, always repeating, like a faulty disc that continually stuttered over the same words. She tormented me, day night, awake and asleep, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Anger boiled within me, a violent torrent that raged inside my mind. And then she spoke, only enraging more the deep anger.

'That's my muffin.' Her voice was cold and demanding; as if she had the right to order me around, as if she could control me. I felt shock flood across my face at the statement, and hurriedly masked it. I felt the anger stirring, screaming _how dare she_, but ignored it, replying.

'No, it's not.' She huffed in response before answering.

'Yes, it is. _I _was here first.' It took all my restraint not to punch her. The nerve she had, challenging me. It frustrated me to no end.

'It's mine!' I hissed, defensive. I was not, under any circumstances, going to lose a fight, _especially_ to a girl. Especially to _her._

'Um, _no._ It's mine!' She retorted, tugging slightly on the muffin, as if she believed _she_ could actually have it; as if she thought she would actually surpass my strength.

I lost it.

The anger exploded inside of me like a bomb, surging through me. No coherent thoughts were possible as it consumed me, driving me to attack, to hurt; anything to vent out this uncontrollable anger.

I yanked her towards me, and she lurched forward, colliding with my chest. I was seething, glaring with all my might, struggling against my urge to simply punch her. She was pushing against my chest, trying to get away, but I only pulled her closer, if that were even possible.

I hated to admit it, but I kind of liked the feeling of her pressed against my chest. Despite the fact I felt like hitting her, and despite the fact that she was trying to move away, I liked it. Images of us together filled my mind, and I snapped out of my reverie as I once again couldn't get her out of my head. I felt like pulling my hair out with frustration as anger once again took control of my thoughts.

'Let go of the damn muffin!' I hissed angrily, my free hand grabbing he shoulder. We were both still holding on to the muffin in our bizarre embrace. Tremors wracked my body and I could see myself trembling as violence consumed my heart, urging me to punch, to hit, to hurt.

''NO! LET ME GO!' She shouted, struggling more, even though it was obviously a futile effort. I could hear the hurried footfalls as my brothers approached, my shaking increasing further.

'NO. JUST GIVE ME THE FRICKIN MUFFIN!' I tightened my grip on her shoulder, and faintly heard her whimper over the shouting that filled my ears. Fury surged through me, and a roaring had filled my ears.

'STOP IT! PAUL!' She shouted, and suddenly I was wrenched away, my eyes never breaking contact. Several of my brothers were restraining me as they pulled me away, restraining me. With a shout I broke free, and lurched towards her, the anger egging me on, driving me forward.

She turned and ran down the hallway, me thundering along behind her, several of my brothers trying and failing to stop me. Everyone was shouting, me included, though I didn't know what I was saying. There were no thoughts in my mind, only an overwhelming anger, and a need to release it.

Storming into the room, shaking like crazy, I arrived just in time to see her yell, before she threw herself out the window.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

If I was jumping out the window of a normal house, and if I had experience with jumping out of windows, this would have gone differently. But as neither was true, I - unfortunately - just had to deal with what I got. Which wasn't pleasant to say the least.

Fact: Did you know that if your house has a porch that you need stairs to reach, this generally means the house is raised by foundations? And did you know that this means a lot when jumping out a window? Probably not. You see, if said window was normally only a metre from the ground, you could almost just step through it. _But_, if your house is raised by foundations, as said house was, said window is therefore almost 2 metres above the ground.

Note to self: This is crucial when jumping out of a window.

Another fact: Did you know that all those cool stunts you see in movies where people fall like 10 metres out of building and land perfectly fine are impossible to accomplish in real life? And did you know that falling 2 metres out of a window onto the ground normally results in landing in a crumpled position with you groaning in pain? Because both of those are true.

However, I, unfortunately, found this out the hard way. And I mean _hard_ way. I would not suggest falling 2 metres onto the ground as something to try at home.

I, of course, did exactly that. It wasn't on purpose; well, actually, I suppose it was. But I had a good reason. When faced with either jumping out a window or facing a completely enraged werewolf, it's obvious which option to choose. And so I found myself crumpled on the ground beneath a window, groaning and swearing. _Fun_.

I didn't have time to wallow in my pain - which wasn't all that bad - because there was still the reason I had jumped in the first place.

Paul.

As soon as I thought the name, any thoughts I might have had of just lying there flew out the window; or more accurately, flew across the yard. And I did exactly that, manoeuvring myself into a sitting position, pleased and surprised to find that I wasn't in that much pain. Odd, but I didn't dwell on it, because at that precise moment, a large, tanned figure dived out the window, army rolling into a crouching position not 2 metres away from me.

It was one of the most bizarre things I had ever had the honour of seeing. My first reaction was to laugh, but as I caught sight of the deadly brown eyes that were glaring daggers at me, that urge died a fast death. Swallowing loudly, I found myself on my feet and running away faster than I had thought possible. I surprised myself with my speed, but with the look in Paul's eyes, no more motivation was needed.

So, as I was running hell for leather away from the anger possessed moron that was after me, it came to me. Where the _hell_ was everyone else? There had to be _at least_ four werewolves in that house besides Paul. So why weren't they saving me? Stopping Paul's crazy anger rage? I got my answer less than five seconds later, and it was definitely _not_ what I was expecting.

As I skidded around the corner of the house, my eyes locked onto the silhouette of a tall figure standing at the edge of the tree line. I felt myself slowing to a stop as I got better look at the person, before eventually stopping completely, absolutely gobsmacked.

It was Quil. Standing there. Not helping at all. Just watching.

Watching with a _video camera_.

He was filming us.

Disbelief flooded through me, and was clearly evident on my face as Quil started to laugh, _still _filming. Throwing my hands up in the air in frustration, I stormed towards him, glaring with all my might. Paul, for the moment, was forgotten.

'WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!' I yelled, smiling with satisfaction as a guilty looked flashed across his face.

'What does it look like I'm doing?' He asked, stifling laughter. One glance at my face and his expression turned into one appropriate for the deathbed of a friend.

'I DON'T BELIEVE THIS! WHY AREN'T YOU HELPING! AND WHY THE _HELL_ DO YOU HAVE A VIDEO CAMERA ON YOU?' I yelled, hands on hips, glaring with all the force I could muster. Quil was lost for words, quailing under my death glare.

But in a flash his expression changed to one of shock as his eyes fixed onto something behind me over my shoulder. I turned instantly, shouting as I did so. Paul was rapidly approaching, and I stepped forward quickly, jabbing a finger into his chest, glaring.

'AND YOU! WHAT THE _HELL_? I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, BUT I AM OVER YOUR BIZARRE ANGER-FUELLED NEED TO ATTACK ME.' I shouted, and noted with pleasure the shock that was evident on his face. I continued glaring after I finished my rant, waiting for a comeback. Nothing came. He just stood there, shock seemingly permanently etched on his face.

'Good. Glad we understand each other.' I said, and with one last poke, turned my back on him and headed back towards Quil.

'Now, I don't know why the hell you carry that thing around with you, and I don't really care. But I definitely want to see that video sometime.' I said, smiling as Quil smiled in response. It was going to be hilarious.

Heading back to the house, my entrance was met with a host of amazed glances. Clearly it was not normal to see Paul lose a fight; my victory just got that much sweeter. Finally, someone broke the silence.

'I've never seen Paul back down from a fight. Ever.' Said Embry, looking at me with a mixture of awe and fright. I shrugged, smiling.

'What can I say? It's a talent.' I replied. It was then that I remembered the muffin. I gasped, looking around the room desperately.

'My muffin! Where is it?' I exclaimed, briskly scanning the kitchen and the area around the table for it. And then I saw it, hiding under a chair,

'I've found it!' I said, crouching down and picking it up. Examining it, dismay filled me.

'I suppose it's been a bit more than five seconds.' I mused, regretful. Laughter followed my statement, and an idea stuck me. Smiling, I headed out the door again, the muffin in my hand.

Scanning the area for Quil, I saw him about 5 metres away, laughing as he watched the video. The opportunity was way too good to miss. Slowly creeping closer, and taking careful aim, I threw the muffin.

It hit Quil's head with a delightful thump.

'Yes!' I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air with glee. Quil was looking around bemused, before locking eyes with me. He glared, and I stuck my tongue out in response. It was on.

Racing back inside, I found it odd that there was no sign of the struggles that had occurred earlier. But I had no time to dwell on it as I swooped down to pick up Claire off the ground before leaving via the back door.

'Come on Claire, it's time for a game of tag with Quil!' I said, and she yelped in delight, clapping her hands together happily.

This was going to be fun.


	14. Dare

**Chapter 14 - Dare**

_Chloe's POV_

The ground.

When lying on it comfortable wasn't the word that came to mind; it was far from it. Yet that was what I was doing. The reason? I had absolutely no idea.

It was nice though. The breeze blowing my hair and whipping at my clothes; it was surprisingly enjoyable. The sky was, as usual, not visible. Clouds were everywhere, blocking all view. But it didn't dampen my spirits; it would take a lot more than that to quell my seemingly inappropriate but eternal optimism.

Contrary to what most people believed, clouds were interesting. They were always there, floating, just waiting for someone to come along and start finding pictures and stories. And it was fun.

There was no limit; no set time or number. Just you and your imagination, going wild. And trust me, my imagination was out of control. I'd mapped out my entire life story, and made up several alternative versions. I'd found everyone I'd met today, and I'd also found a variety of completely bizarre things that had absolutely no significance. And throughout this, I talked to myself; something I did a lot.

Somehow, for some bizarre reason, the world made more sense when spoken aloud. I know it's crazy; I'll admit it if anyone asks (and they have asked). Maybe it was because my great talent of arguing lie in words; or maybe it was just another weird thing about me. Either way, it was something I did frequently, and enjoyed. So that's what I did as I lie on the ground, watching the clouds; I talked to myself.

But in addition to my mutterings and self-commentary, I could clearly hear many of the conversations from the house. Laughter was almost constant, and arguing seemed to be a daily activity that they somehow never got bored of. The usual topic was, predictably, food. The way those maniacs ate was slightly disturbing and unbelievable, but since my own brother did so, I was kind of used to it.

At the moment the conversation was very boisterous, as predictable for the topic. For some reason, when daring someone, said dare always had to be shouted, and always had to be accompanied a low groan of 'oooh' from the rest of the group. It made for good entertainment, and sometimes I just couldn't resist laughing under my breath.

At the moment, however, I couldn't hear what they were saying. Quite strange, seeing as they'd been shouting not five minutes ago; unless there was a reason for the quiet. Mulling it over in my head, only one solution came to mind.

The dare was about me.

I laughed at the thought. Though, strangely, it did make sense. And so I began contemplating what the dare was, and how it would involve me. After a few minutes, when I still had no idea, I gave up, and continued my cloud gazing.

Within minutes the occupants of the house were shouting once more. Then, silence, followed by the sound of everyone moving to the left side of the house; the side I was lying on. It came on so suddenly, I knew that everyone was watching in anticipation for the dare. Clearly, they didn't expect that I'd actually pay attention enough to predict what was happening. I smiled.

More silence.

It was so strange; I had to smash my lips together to keep from laughing out loud. In any other house, silence wouldn't have been a rare thing, but not here. Here, it was unheard of. The wolves did not know how to be quiet; not even in sleep. There was always noise; except now.

It was a dead giveaway. I was almost tempted to yell something about their stupidity to show I'd guessed what they were up to, but stopped myself. It was kind of annoying how they underestimated my intelligence so much; now was the perfect time to prove them wrong.

And then it hit me; not literally of course, but it would soon. The only exclamation for the continued silence and lack of approach meant that whatever the dare was, it did not need close proximity. Taking into account the fact that I threw a muffin at Quil's head earlier today, it seems all too obvious that he's trying to get revenge. They - whoever had been dared - was going to throw something at me.

Instinct kicked in - thank god! - and in a matter of seconds I had rolled myself onto my stomach. Propping myself up with my elbows, I turned my head into the direction of the house just in time to see a tennis ball drop next to me with a quiet thump. It was in the exact position my head had been just seconds ago. I smiled, laughing quietly to myself.

I directed my gaze to the veranda, and immediately rested my eyes of the thrower. I smiled even wider. For whom should it be but Paul, trying to get revenge for both Quil and himself, and failing. I was elated, an emotion greatly induced by the look of complete shock on Paul's face. Waving at him and smiling somewhat innocently, I called out to him.

'Looks like you missed! You might need to improve your aim!' His expression remained shocked, and he began blinking furiously and shaking his head, as if this were a dream that would just simply disappear. I laughed, which seemed to be the cue to break the silence that everyone else had adopted. There was rush of motion and noise as some returned to their seats and others came outside.

Satisfaction flooding through me, I rolled back over onto my back, stretching out my arms above my head. Sighing, I shaded my eyes with my hand as if the sun were too bright, watching as several figures made their way over to me. They towered over me, looking like giants from my position on the ground.

'The giants are coming! They're going to eat me!' I exclaimed, giggling.

'Eat you? Really?' Matt asked. I shrugged.

'What else could I say? Just saying kill wasn't going to cut it' Quil smirked, laughing.

'No sir, just dying is not enough.' He mocked, placing his hands on his hips. I laughed, replying.

'You look really feminine when you do that.' I giggled at his expression of outrage.

'I do not!' He exclaimed.

'You do, actually.' Matt said, looking thoughtful. 'I can't believe I never noticed it before!'

'There!' I said. 'Now can someone pull me up?' I reached up my hands expectantly.

Neither Matt nor Quil made a move to help.

'Fine!' I exclaimed, hauling myself up into a sitting position. Matt and Quil were still arguing, though I couldn't quite hear what they were saying, as they had slowly begun to move towards the house. Clambering to my feet, the world spun for a moment as all the blood rushed from my head. It was then that a great idea popped into my mind.

Smiling, I walked forward towards Matt and Quil, who were still arguing. Except now they had started wrestling. Coming up directly behind them, I was almost knocked over as they brawled. I shrieked in surprise, drawing them out of their brawl and back into reality.

'Whoa, watch it! Easily crushable girl coming through.' I said, walking between them, towards the house. After taking a few steps away from them, I groaned, pressing my hand against my forehead as if I had a headache; even though I was perfectly fine. I swayed a little, and took a step forward.

It was then that I crumpled to the ground, faking unconsciousness.

It took all my will not to swear as I hit the ground. It was painful; no feather mattress. But if I did, I'd look like an idiot; even more so than usual. I'd have fallen on the hard, unforgiving ground for no reason at all.

As a number of people rushed toward me, I knew I was right; they would not see this coming. After all, who played a prank by faking a faint?

I could hear worried voices, though they were muffled as my left ear was facing the ground. I closed my eyes quickly as someone rolled me over onto my back. I put on the best poker face I could muster, and focused on not moving any part of my body at all, I knew even a twitch would give me away.

But I really wanted to see their faces. I knew they would be hilarious; I knew I would start laughing if I saw them, which would give me away. And so the mental debate began.

Look.

Don't look.

Look.

Don't look.

Look. I was going to look. They'd find out soon enough. I flickered my eyelids a little, blinking as if I was actually waking from faint. I squinted up at those above me. It was a sea of faces. Male faces, with panic written all over them.

It was so unbelievably funny.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe and my eyes began to water. At the looks of confusion that now adorned everyone's faces, I laughed some more. It was hilarious. Absolutely and completely hilarious.

Until I realised that they were still all staring at me. They were all crowed around me, so packed in that I could barely see anything except flesh.

'Ok, whoa. Personal bubble invasion.' I stated, waving my hands in a gesture that clearly indicated _back off_. No one moved. I sighed.

Manoeuvring myself into a sitting position, I scrambled up onto my feet, forcing everyone else to stand up as well. They were all still staring.

'You know, it's rude to stare.' I said to the group. After a moment, Matt responded.

'I'm going to kill you.' I took one look at his serious expression before racing towards the house.

I think I managed maybe 4 steps before I felt arms wrap around my waist, lifting me off the ground. I shrieked in protest as I was hauled backwards.

'Why do you do these things to me, Chlo?' He asked as he carried me across back yard.

'Because life would be boring if I didn't.'

'But do you have to keep scaring me to death in the process?'

'Yes, of course.'

'Why?'

'Because everything I do scares you. I keep you on your toes.' He gave me a strange look as he let go of me.

'What?' I asked.

'You're insane.'

'Thank you!' I gushed, heading towards the stairs that led to the door.

It was then that I found myself falling towards the ground. Blackness was surging in from the edges of my vision as pain spiked through me.

Then, nothing.

* * *

'I'm fine. Really.' I said for the millionth time. Matt gave me a stern look. I glared back.

Was it really so hard to believe? Yes, I fainted. No, I didn't know why. End of story. I'm fine, let's forget about it. But, of course, it wasn't that simple. Not when my brother was involved.

'No, you're not.' He insisted. I rolled my eyes.

'Yes, I am.'

'No, you're not.'

'I'm fine. I know me best, and I say I am. The end.'

'But you would say that even you weren't!'

'No I wouldn't!' I exclaimed. He looked at me pointedly. I sighed.

'That doesn't matter. Let's. Just. Go.' I said, getting up from the chair I had been sitting on. Turning around, I made to walk out the door.

Instead I walked into the door frame.

I stumbled back a few steps, rubbing my forehead, wincing as my fingers found a tender bruise.

'Ok, owww. That was _not_ meant to happen.'

Before anyone could force me back into my seat, I hurried out the door, making it all the way down the steps until I found myself lifted up by warm, muscular arms. Before I could get my bearings, I found myself slung over Matt's shoulder. He began to walk; in which direction I had no idea.

'You know, I have an extraordinarily good view of your butt here.' I stated, making Matt laugh. I continued.

'Normally, I wouldn't hesitate to perve, but you're my brother, which makes it kind of disturbing.' He laughed again.

'Where are we going?' I asked, curious. We would have reached the house by now; we had been right next to it after all.

There was no reply.

'If it doesn't have a bed, I'm disowning you' I mumbled. He laughed.

'Don't I have official custody of you?' he asked.

'Shut up.'


	15. Haunted

**Chapter 15 - Haunted**

I woke up by myself. There was no Matt stealing my doona, no loud birds outside, no alarm clock; not that mine worked. I actually woke up because of _me_. Peeking out my head, I was pleased to notice a large amount of light in my room; it was definitely a while after sunrise. It was the makings of a perfect day.

I should've known I wouldn't be that lucky.

It took less than 2 minutes for my happiness to disappear. And by disappear, I mean disintegrate beyond any hope of repair. Forget making it out the room; I didn't even manage to get off the bed before it happened.

I was performing my normal wake up routine. It was quite simple; lie there until I had enough energy to get up. It involved quite a bit of yawning and groaning, not to mention me burying my head under my pillow.

After painstakingly turning myself over onto my stomach, I groped blindly for my pillow, yanking it from the bed. I smushed it against the back of my head, before flopping my head down onto the mattress.

Only to find the space under my pillow already occupied.

Instead of hitting my soft, squishy mattress, I found a stiff, flat object. I could feel it slowly crumpling beneath my cheek.

Raising my head, I looked downwards, a sense of foreboding enveloping me.

As my eyes rested on the small, slightly crumpled piece of paper, I winced.

'Ow. It's like it can cut me just by looking at it.' I muttered. I noted that, once again, it was expensive invitation paper.

Déjà vu over took me. This was almost an identical replay of two weeks ago; except for one thing. This time, I actually had some idea of what it was going to say.

'I should be freaking out.' I muttered, waiting for inevitable realisation.

After a few seconds, with no depression in sight, I shrugged.

'I must be in shock. I have to say, I'm kind of disappointed. I mean, it's exactly the same as last time. How unoriginal.' I continued.

Closing my eyes, I reached out blindly for the paper. Unfolding it, I took a deep breath, and then opened my eyes. I read it in silence, holding my breath.

_I know where you are. Your time is almost up._

I let out the breath I was holding.

'At least it was short.' I mumbled in a weak attempt to console myself.

Face palming, I swore to myself I would never become a therapist. If I couldn't comfort myself, I definitely couldn't do it for other people.

Tossing the note onto the floor, I flopped back down onto the bed.

I. Was. Going. To. Die.

In four days!

It was like a broken tape recorder in my head, constantly repeating. It felt like nails being driven into my skull. I thumped my head against the mattress, again and again, hoping it would clear my head. It did, kind of; except now I had a headache.

I may as well just lie here for the rest of the week. There's no point in going or doing anything; I'm going to die anyway. Horribly, I bet. I shuddered; I had a way too active imagination.

And so it was as I lay there rubbing my now aching head that I realised something.

He had left me a note. In my bedroom.

He had been in my bedroom!

However, my next thought was _not_ what you would expect. It wasn't me wondering how the hell he had got in. No, instead I was wondering how the hell I was supposed to hide this from Matt.

I could shred a piece of paper easy peasy. I'd have lots of fun doing it too. But Matt was a werewolf, and he would know the moment he got near my bedroom that someone had been in there, seeing that someone was a vampire and all. And then I would be locked away for the rest of my life.

Which was a total of four days. Even if I was locked in a missile proof box, I would die. There was just no question. He was clearly meticulous, powerful and way too focused on revenge. And I did not want to spend my last four days locked away.

If I'm going to die, I'm going to have fun before I do.

Which meant I was back to my original problem; how the hell to stop Matt from finding out a vampire had been in my bedroom.

* * *

After spending a grand total of 30 seconds thinking it over, I had come to a conclusion.

If Matt never got in my room, he couldn't find out a vampire had been in it.

That, of course, then led to the problem of keeping him out. At least he hadn't come in this morning to wake me up; I would have been so dead. Then again, I still would be if I didn't come up with a plan.

I couldn't block him. He had superhuman strength; I had wit. I was pretty sure if it came to a showdown he would win, hands down. So my best bet was to try and get him out of house; which surprisingly wouldn't be that hard.

Groaning, I rolled my self of the bed, landing with a thump. Jumping to my feet, I fluttered around my room, searching for clothes and a hairbrush. Once I had them in my possession, I raced to the bathroom; slamming my bedroom door in the process.

Several minutes later, I emerged clad in my favourite jeans and a black tank top. How boring. But I didn't have the luxury of finding something less gloomy, unfortunately.

Thundering down the stairs, combing my fingers through my hair the process, I found Matt in the kitchen with a plate full of toast. Snagging one off the top, I stuck it in my mouth as I went searching for some shoes. Spying my ugg boots on the couch, I shrugged, before yanking them on. So what if they didn't match.

Finishing my toast, I sat myself down at the table next to Matt, who promptly moved his plate out of my reach.

'Hey!' I protested, reaching for it but getting nowhere.

'Make your own.' He said. I responded with a glare.

'I wasn't that hungry anyway.' I muttered. The house was silent for the next few minutes as Matt finished breakfast, and I watched him. Once he'd finished, he spoke once more.

'We're going-'

'To Emily's.' I said, cutting him off. He sighed.

'Yes.' I smirked. He was so predictable.

'Then let's go.' I said, rising from my seat, hoping I didn't sound too enthusiastic. I guess I failed, as Matt sent me an inquiring look.

'There's something called sleep; you might have heard of it. It's been known give people energy.' I stated. Now it was his turn to glare.

'It's not my fault you slept in yesterday.'

'Oh, but it is. Because you woke me up, I didn't have the _chance_ to sleep in.'

'I couldn't risk you going out adventuring again.'

'Yes, because that would have been an absolute tragedy.'

'Let's just go already.'

* * *

Much to my surprise, the day progressed fairly normally. I bantered with several wolves, argued with Matt, played with Claire. I didn't suffer any emotional breakdowns of realisation, nor did I faint for no reason. Despite the morning's unhappy start, I was actually happy.

It didn't last.

The phone rang. I was surprised I couldn't even hear it over all the noise the wolves were making. Emily hurried to get the call, and just before answering, shouted to the room.

'Shut up!' Amazingly, everyone did exactly that. Wow; talk about unexpected. I didn't have to time to ponder the wolves amazing ability to instantly be silenced any further however, as Emily turned to me and held out the phone.

'It's for you.'

What? They didn't make any sense! I didn't even live here, and this was only the second time I'd been here. Why the hell would anyone call here to find me? Why would anyone call me, period?

The only 2 people who would call are Matt, who's about 2 metres to my left, or Nissa, who was on holiday with her family. Who else did that leave? Instantly, my mind flashed to this morning's unfortunate message. Filled with hesitance, I raised the phone to my ear, and spoke, trying my best to sound normal.

'Hello?' Somehow, I pulled normal off. Thank god! But my small bout of joy didn't last.

'It's me.'

It was him. Mentally cringing, I answered the first thing that popped into my mind.

'How did you get this number?' Great. Just great. Could I be anymore stupid?

'Does it matter?' His cold voice sent shivers down my spine, I struggled not to shudder.

'I still have few days left.' Face palm. I sounded so desperate. Then again, I _was_ desperate.

I heard a faint snicker. Not what I was expecting. I heard a few more, before laughter suddenly filtered through the phone. Multiple voices could be heard in the background; and none of them sounded anything like him.

'Who is this?' I asked. I didn't get a reply. Sighing, I hung up.

But the laughter continued. I looked at the phone, and pressed it to my ear once more. Nothing. Still the laughter continued. What the hell was going on?

Glancing around, I saw through the window Paul, and 2 other wolves, laughing their heads off; they were clearly behind the call.

I had been tricked. It hadn't been him. Those 2 thoughts whirled around and around my head, slowly sinking in. It hadn't been him. Slowly, ever so slowly, I calmed down just enough get pissed at them.

Storming out of the room, I marched toward them.

'What the hell was that all about?' I yelled, throwing my hands into the air with frustration.

'Chill. It was just a prank.' Paul said.

'Who did you think you were taking to?' Another wolf, I think his name was Jared, asked.

'Just some idiot I used to know. Clearly, I was right' I retorted, turning around. Somehow, my brain had managed to come up with a brilliant excuse.

'Whoa, calm down!' Paul exclaimed, grabbing my shoulder and turning me around too face him. 'It was just a joke.'

'And clearly you enjoyed it.'

'It wasn't meant to upset you.'

Whoa. Definitely not what I was expecting. Kindness, from Paul of all people; it was just so strange. From the looks on his companion's faces, I guess they hadn't been expecting it either.

'Well what was it meant to do then? Make me happy?' I asked, sarcasm lacing my tone. He had no answer.

'That's what I thought.' I turned away once more, heading back into the house. For some reason, every time we met, I ended up angry. Venting my frustration on a nearby couch, I kicked it, before sinking into it.

* * *

The phone rang again. It had been less than an hour since the prank call. Once more, Emily shouted at the room for silence.

And once more, she turned to me and said.

'It's for you.'

Anger surged up in me. I took the phone and started speaking instantly and fiercely, not bothering with a greeting.

'Unbelievable! I can't believe you'd stoop so low as to do it _twice_! Once was bad enough, but now you've gone too far!' Silence followed my rant, so I continued.

'And you won't even defend yourself. I don't care that you said you didn't mean it; clearly that was a lie, as now you've done it again.' More silence.

'Just admit it Paul. You get a kick out of annoying me. Well, I hope you had fun, because I'm not planning on seeing you again.' I stopped, took a deep breath, and prepared to continue. But just before I opened my, mouth I finally got a reply.

It wasn't what I expected.

'I don't remember ever saying my name was Paul.' The voice that replied was cold and emotionless, and made me feel like I'd been stabbed in the stomach.

'And what about our little meeting in a few days, I've been looking forward to it.' The anticipation his voice chilled me to the bone.

It was him.


	16. Shock

**Chapter 16 - Shock**

'Oh'.

I was so shocked and mortified, I couldn't even get annoyed that my brain hadn't come up with anything intelligent in response. My quiet whisper, letting out all my anger instantly. Feeling the cold finger of fear sliding down my back. All because of that voice.

It was the voice of nightmares. It was what I imagined death's voice would sound like, if death had a voice. And in my case, it was actually death's voice; of that I was certain.

I had no hope of surviving, no way to avoid the approaching day marked for my death.

But I had thought I could at least enjoy my last few days. Yes, my imminent death would always be a cloud over me, haunting me; there was no way to avoid that. But I could be with my brother, and the pack. I could laugh both with them and at them. I could be as happy as one could be in my situation.

I had definitely not expected any further contact for him.

Clearly, I was wrong. I was not going to have an enjoyable last few days. Not at all.

There was another option. I could tell my brother. He'd probably believe me, if I was serious enough. He knew that even I wouldn't joke about that. But then, if he did believe me, he'd go ballistic. He'd probably lock me away in some super protected facility in a remote location that didn't feature on any maps. I'd never go outside, never see anyone; I would be trapped. And that almost terrified me more than my death.

I loved the outdoors. The week that I had spent in the house after the accident had been living hell. There had been no social contact, no other life forms to communicate with, except Matt in the few moments he was actually home. Nothing remotely adventurous to do, nothing new to explore. I had been caged, and my every instinct was urging me to make sure it never happened again.

That left me with but one future. I hoped I could stick with my original plan of happiness, but instinct told me the truth about my future; a terrifying few days before my life ended.

Shaking my head as if to rid myself of bad thoughts, something occurred to me.

'Why did you call me here? This isn't my house. How did you know I would answer?' I was no longer whispering, but I could hear fear in my voice.

He laughed. It was an evil chuckle, just like the bad guys do in the movies, that made me shudder.

'Intelligent I see. This will make it so much more interesting.' The anticipation in his voice made me cringe. I didn't want to know what he had planned.

'You didn't answer.'

'I've been watching you. Following you. There is, after all, just a few days left.' Of course he had been. It fit in perfectly with the creepy, evil vampire image I had conjured up of him. How the hell he had gotten into my house and followed me around the Rez without the wolves picking up his scent I had no idea, but this only reinforced the fact that they could do nothing to save me.

'And until then?'

'I look forward to our meeting.'

Click, followed by dial tone. He was gone.

I felt like I had awoken from a nightmare. Rubbing my eyes, I thanked fate that I had been in the hallway for most of the call; explaining my reaction to the phone call to the wolves would not have been fun. Glancing quickly around the room, I was satisfied that no one had noticed.

With this realisation, I felt an unexpected sadness. How I wished they could solve my problem, but I knew it was impossible. In this, I was all alone. Feeling my eyes fill with tears, I stalked down the hallway; I didn't want anyone to see me cry.

* * *

_Quil's POV_

My eyes followed Chloe as she walked across the room to take the phone from Emily. I caught a brief glimpse of her face as she turned away, and she looked seriously pissed.

My thoughts immediately jumped to Paul, who always seemed to do something to annoy her. I saw him outside, laughing his head off with Jared. Not him then. I felt sorry for the sucker that was on the receiving end of her rant.

The noise in the room was too loud for me to make out the conversation, so I edged closer to her. Just as I reached the kitchen bench top, I saw her lower the phone and turn to put it back in the receiver. She glanced around the room quickly, and I turned my gaze to the window as she looked in my direction. Glancing in her direction, I saw her stand for a moment more, her eyes filling with tears, as she headed down the hallway.

I debated going after her, but decided she'd probably just shoot me down and send me back. But as I headed back to my previous spot on the couch, I discovered I wasn't the only one who had been watching. For whom should it be but Paul, stalking across the room after Chloe, intent on making mischief as always.

But as I looked into his face, I did a double take. He wore an expression that I had never before seen on his face, something that looked akin to worry, and I thought back to my reflection on how the two of them argued as if made for each other.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

I shut the door behind me as I enter the hallway, probably with a bit more force than necessary as I unknowingly vented my frustration upon it. All my built up emotion from the last few days of ignoring my pending doom had caught up with me, and I was getting out on anything that stood in my way.

Common sense eluded me, and so I stormed through the house, letting out all my fear, hurt, worry, anger, and frustration. Hot tears blurred my vision as I raced up the stairs and into my bedroom, throwing myself onto the bed.

Less than 10 seconds later, I heard knocking on the door. Heading over to my bedroom window, I opened it and shouted down to however was there.

'Go away asshole, I don't want you here!' I didn't actually no who it was, and to be honest, I didn't really care. I was just about to clamber back into bed when I heard more knocking, louder this time.

Anger surging through me, I charged downstairs and answered the door. Some distant part of me knew my eyes were blotchy and I was still crying, but my emotions overrode all common sense. Yanking open the door, I noticed only that he was tall, tanned and muscular, before repeating myself.

'Go away. I'm not in the mood.' Moving to shut the door I found it blocked by his foot.

'Let me in.'

'No! I don't want you here.'

'Let me in.'

'Just leave me alone!' I yelled, pulling the door shut with all my might. The idiot must have got the message and moved his foot.

Sobbing once more, I slowly made my way down the hall. Just before I reached the stairs however, I felt a pair of warm arms wrap around my waist, pulling me backwards.

'No! Let go of me!' I managed to shout, before my sobs became uncontrollable. I was pulled towards the couch and into a warm lap. My tears seemed endless, and I curled up into a ball as Matt wrapped his arms around me.

* * *

I woke up warm, and with a killer head ache. I guess that's what you get if you have an emotional breakdown. Moaning as I tried to shake myself awake properly, I snuggled into Matt's chest, enjoying the peace while it lasted. I knew that the moment he was awake, and saw I was back to my normal self, I would be grilled with questions; questions I did _not_ want to answer.

Blinking like a maniac, my eyes wandered through the room until they found the clock. 2.14. Glancing outside, I noted with dismay that it was pitch black outside. I groaned. My sleep schedule was going to be so screwed up.

Deciding I was too comfortable - and lazy - to move, I closed my eyes, hoping I would slip back into sleep quickly, as I was not yet fully awake.

After a few minutes, however, just as I was on the brink of sleep, I felt it. A warm arm snaking around my waist, a hand resting palm down on my stomach. Wondering what the hell Matt was doing, I removed his hand from stomach, letting it drape over the side of the couch, closing my eyes once more.

A few seconds later however, his hand was back, once again resting on ym stomach. Confused, I stared at the hand I just moved, finding it in the same spot I had placed it in. His _other_ hand was draped across my body, bordering the line between sibling affection and something more intimate to closely for my liking. Before I could move it however, his hand was rubbing circles on my stomach.

Just as I raised my left hand to once again remove his hands from my body, I found it consumed by Matt's other hand that had been hanging by his side. He laced his fingers through mine, redirecting my hand to hang off the couch wrapped in his. Now severely disturbed, I lay there in shock, trying to comprehend what was going on.

But as the hand that had previously been rubbing my stomach tightened, hugging me closer, I threw myself upwards, breaking free of his hold. Climbing off the couch, I moved a few metres away just to be safe. Breathing heavily as I processed what had just happened, I noticed something.

Moving forwards in the darkness, I peered into what I had previously believed to be Matt's face. After a few seconds, however, it was clear that this was _not_ my brother. It was, to my complete shock, one of the wolves that I easily recognised.

Paul.

Emotions raced through me, disturbed and confused being the strongest. Why had he come to comfort me, and why had been hugging me in his sleep? Fired up with questions, I decided to demand answers. My voice was loud, accusing and angry, piercing the darkness like a freshly sharpened knife.

'What the _hell_ do you think your _doing_?'

He jerked awake, blinking rapidly as he gathered in his surroundings. His eyes found mine in the darkness, and by the look on his face, I guessed my expression was pretty formidable. As he slowly began to think through the situation, his expression quickly changed from confusion to realisation.

'Shoot.' An adequate response, in my opinion.

'Care to explain yourself?' I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

'Ummm-' He looked frantic as he scratched his head.

'Don't even bother.' I said, storming over to the front door and opening it. Turning to face Paul, who was now standing in front of the couch, I spoke.

'I always knew you were an asshole, Paul. This just proves it.'

And with those final words, I ran out into the night, slamming the door behind me.

* * *

It was freezing. The wind whistled through the trees, slicing through me as my ugg boots crunched the dead leaves beneath my feet. I could only be thankful that it wasn't raining.

Fortunately, Sam and Emily's house was just a short walk - or run in my case - from our house. This also meant it was easy to get there without getting lost. Something I didn't really have time for, as I could here Paul behind me, yelling. His words were carried away by the wind, but I wouldn't have listened anyway.

I could see the lights of their house in the distance, but I didn't slow down. I knew I would have only seconds to convey my predicament to those who were awake before Paul would storm in after me.

Leaping up the stairs, I raced into the living room, causing all the occupants to turn and stare at me with shock. Gasping, I managed to get the words out.

'I always knew he had a disturbed mind. But I had no idea…' Shaking my head with disbelief, I glanced out the window to see Paul charging out of the forest.

'Don't let him near me. I don't want to see him again.' I half demanded, half pleaded, before racing into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

Leaning my back against the door, panting, I had only to wait a few seconds before I heard him enter the house. His voice was seething anger as he spoke his demand.

'Where is she? I need to see her. Now!'


	17. Emotions

**Chapter 17 - Emotions**

Sinking to the cold tile floor, I quailed as imagined the deadly expression on his face that accompanied those words. I could imagine him so well; his body quivering with anger as tried to reign in his temper, his fists clenched as he fought not to punch someone. His hyperactive eyes, alternating between scanning the room as he searched for me, and glaring at the occupants to get then to hand me over.

Whoa. What the heck was I doing? Now was not the time to be daydreaming about Paul, who every time I had seen him, had either been trying to kill me, or been acting like a total jerk. I should be busy hating him and thinking up ways to get revenge. Or, perhaps more appropriate to my current situation, trying to figure how the hell I was going to escape him this time.

I was dragged away from my attempt to re-order my thoughts, however, by the shouted retort to Paul's demand. And who should it be but Matt, another one of the more temperamental wolves. How the hell they had managed not kill each other yet, I had no idea.

'What the hell did you _do_?'

That was an excellent question. My mind scrambled as I tried to come up with a description for what had occurred. He had _definitely_ thoroughly invaded my personal space, via subconsciously running his hands all over my body. Things had definitely been headed towards something more intimate, but fortunately, I'd been able to escape before I was violated further.

But while reflecting on what exactly had happened, I couldn't help but think about what the heck he had been dreaming that would cause him do such a thing. And who exactly had he thought he was sleeping with? Shuddering as I tried to avoid following that train of thought, Matt spoke some more.

'I've never seen her like this. Ever!'

'Let me see her.'

'Not until I find out what happened!'

'I NEED TO SEE HER!'

'NO! SHE WON'T HESITATE TO BULLDOZE OVER ANYONE WHO'S IN HER WAY, AND SUDDENLY SHE'S RUNNING THROUGH THE FOREST IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, LOCKING HERSELF IN THE BATHROOM, ASKING US ONLY NOT TO LET YOU NEAR HER! CLEARLY, SOMETHING HAPPENED.'

Normally I would have been amused at Matt's description of me, but I had other things on my mind. Such as the fact that Matt had revealed my hiding spot. Scrambling to my feet, someone started thumping on the door and rattling the handle, trying to get in.

Paul.

Frozen to the spot with my back pressed against the sink, as far away from the door as possible, I stared at the door in horror as it shook. Shouting could be heard from the hallway, and I was pretty sure Matt and the other wolves were trying to restrain Paul. At least, I hoped they were. It then dawned on me that being the middle of the night, there wasn't many wolves in the house. Racking my brains, I could only remember seeing 2 people when I had raced in. I had no idea if that would be enough to stop him.

The door stopped shaking, and the sounds from the hall quieted down. I took a few deep breaths, trying to get myself to relax enough to move from my position. But just as I had decided to move towards the door, I heard it.

A loud growl, and several shouts. Before I could do anything but press myself back against the sink, the door was almost yanked of its hinges, and in the doorway stood Paul, chest heaving, his expression murderous.

By his actions, I knew resistance was futile. Still, I tried to hold my ground as he approached me, took my arm, and pulled me after him. I was powerless to do anything but stumble along after him. Hoping words would get through to him, I began to speak.

'Paul, please.' We were in the hallway, with him slowly pulling me along.

'Paul, let me go.' We'd almost passed through the living room, and were headed to the front door. Not good. As I tried to dig my feet into ground, I somehow managed to get him to pause. But it was only a second before he once again pulled me towards him, this time harder. I could feel his hand squeezing my wrist tighter and tighter, slowly crushing it.

'Stop, Paul. You're hurting me.' He stopped. He actually listened to me.

'We need to talk.' He said, turning to face me.

'Let's talk here then.' I replied, with a quick glance towards Matt and one of the other wolves' unconscious forms, laying on the floor a few metres away. Hopefully they would wake up and help me out. They were wolves; they had super healing powers. How long could it take?

One look at his face shut me up.

His eyes were burning holes in my skin, pinning me to the floor. There was no kindness in his face as he approached me, his hands clenching my upper arms, shaking me. His voice was low and angry as he spat out the words.

'What have you done to me?'

'What have _I _done? It's more like what have you done? You're the one who thoroughly invaded my privacy!'

* * *

_Paul's POV_

'We need to talk.'

I turned to face her as she replied.

'Let's talk here then.'

I didn't care where. Only that it was soon. I needed answers. She was everywhere, haunting my mind. Around every corner, in my all my brother's thoughts, stalking me in my dreams. It needed to stop. It took all my strength not lose control and end it right now. If I phased, she wouldn't survive. But would that stop her from invading my thoughts?

Repressing the urge punch something, I grabbed her arms, shaking her, trying to shake the truth from her lips.

'What have you done to me?'

'What have _I _done? It's more like what have you done? You're the one who thoroughly invaded my privacy!'

Memories surged to the surface at her words as I recalled my dream.

* * *

I dreamt of Sam, the day he phased too close to Emily.

He pulled her limp body close to his chest, holding her, urging her to wake. He was crying, frantic as he tried to bring her back to consciousness.

'Em, wake up.' he kept whispering, pulling her closer and closer.

Then it was me in his place, holding an unconscious Chloe in my arms.

My heart was pounding, filling with worry as she refused to wake. I fought the urge to kiss her hair, shaking my head to rid myself of the thought. I slid her body off mine, clambering to my feet. Before I knew it I was running through the forest as wolf, my claws digging deep into the soil, propelling me forward. All attachment to her was gone.

In wolf form, it was easy to convince myself I hadn't truly imprinted. If I ignored it, refused it, it would disappear. I refused to be forced, to be designated like a toy to some girl I didn't know.

And then suddenly, there she was in front of me, and I was holding her once more, hugging her, urging her to wake. As she abruptly sat up, pulling herself from me and standing, the dream faded as I was woken from sleep.

* * *

Emotions churned within me. I was fighting against the tug, the invisible tether that was slowly forming. When she was gone, it was possible. Memories of her stalked me, but they didn't have the connection. But when I saw her in the flesh, hurting, my body instinctually - and with out my permission - did anything to comfort her, to make it better.

I was two people, two personalities, at war against one another. I had no control, just a constant conflict with in my mind.

It had to stop. With her here, it was impossible. She needed to be gone, out of the way, somewhere where she wouldn't keep coming into my life and bringing my mental war back to where it started.

If she wouldn't go, I'd make her.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

'You need to leave.' He said, turning his head to glance out the window.

'What?' Did he mean the house, or something more? Why was he avoiding the subject? I mentally groaned; it was too early for this.

'You can't stay here.' More vague information. Terrific.

'You aren't making any sense. Even more so than usual.'

He stared at me, groaning. Then, before I knew it, he was everywhere. The world spun, I was engulfed in heat, and the ground disappeared from beneath my feet. Blinking rapidly, my head stopped spinning. I was outside the house, watching it slowly shrink the further away I became from it. Still feeling heat beneath my stomach, I realised.

Paul had slung me over his shoulder. And was taking me into the forest with him. And there were no wolves to help me.

I was so screwed.

Should I start screaming, hoping someone would here me? Was it actually necessary, or was Paul just playing another stupid prank?

I didn't have time to decide.

The ground was rushing towards me, and I collided with a painful thud. I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the trees towering over me that I could just barely make out in the darkness. Paul had turned away from me and was pacing between the trees, constantly disappearing and appearing as the trees blocked my view of him.

He was muttering to himself, occasionally kicking or punching a tree in evident frustration. Now was definitely a good time to leave. Because I knew, somehow, that staying would not end well.

Almost as if he knew the moment I made my decision, he turned, stalking towards me. I shuffled backwards across the dead leaves littering the ground, stopping when my back hit a tree trunk. Only a few snatches of moonlight shone through the trees, so I could make out anything but his figure. But looking at his purposeful stride, I didn't need an expression to know his mood.

He grabbed me under my arms, pulling me to my feet, slamming against the tree behind me. I huffed at the impact. His hands were pressing into my shoulders, pushing them against the trunk.

'You need to go. I can't have you here.'

'I don't know what you want.'

'YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!' He roared, pushing me even harder into the tree, his face inches from mine.

'I don't understand what you want me to do.' I whispered. He was shaking madly, tremors racking his body. He pulled his hand back, and I closed my eyes, turning my head, waiting for the blow.

It never came.

Pauls hand disappeared from my shoulder, and I fell to the ground without him holding me up. The sound of ripping clothes reached my ears, and a furious growl. I heard a thump, and a low whine. Raising my head, which was leaning against the tree trunk, I opened my eyes, and stared at the sight before me.

There was wolf lying at the base of a tree about 10 metres away from me, not moving. And bending over it was a pale figure that sent shivers down my spine.

It straightened, turning towards me. I had only a second to glimpse his face, but I recognised it. Terror gripped me, and my breath cut off.

It was him.

In flash he was before me, crouching down in front of me. I hadn't even realised I'd collapsed. I dared not even breathe as he stared at me, dark burgundy eyes glinting in the patch of moonlight revealing his face; the face of nightmares.

My brain was frozen. I couldn't think, couldn't move, could do nothing but stare in undisguised horror. Death was coming, and I could only hope that it would be quick.

Brushing his cold hand across my forehead, sweeping my hair out of my face, he caressed my cheek, tracing my jawbone. I quivered, his touch leaving lines of cold across my skin. Smiling, he kissed my forehead, before straightening.

And then he disappeared. I jolted at a cold touch on my ear, and the feel of his lips as he whispered to me.

'You're mine. Mine alone. See you soon, my lovely.' The words were icicles stabbed through my heart.

And then he was gone.


	18. Stuck

**Chapter 18 - Stuck**

The branches of the trees swayed. Leaves rustled. Wind whipped through the forest, slicing through me, its cold embrace an echo of his icy touch. The moon shone, its white light patchy across the forest floor.

The world was dark, the trees black shadows, the only colour the navy of the sky, and the luminescence of the moon. There was still the faint figure of a wolf, curled at the base of a tree not far away, unmoving.

Then there was me. Goosebumps coating my skin, my limbs pale in the dim light. My hair, floating in the wind, brushing against my shoulders. My hands, clenching the roots of the tree, nails digging into the bark. My eyes, glassy, unmoving, staring into nothing. My body, deathly still, no sign of life but for the slow rise and fall of my chest as I breathed.

All of this I saw. I could see it; see it as if I was bird in the sky, watching the scene. Nothing but an observer, emotionless, with no attachment. Not caring, just noticing, simply because it was there to be noticed. Other thoughts non-existent, repressed, caged, locked away.

Everything was slow. My eyes, slowly roaming the area. My chest, slowly rising with each breath. My brain, slowly taking in, small segments at a time. Breaking it up, stating it, trying to make sense of it. Understanding, then moving on. Slowly, ever so slowly, I did this, as time crawled by.

But despite my best efforts, despite my automatic, subconscious response of repression, it didn't last. It seems that eventually, the numbness must fade. I must be broken out of my trance, no longer stunned, no longer separate from the world around me.

I must wake up.

I blink. Then blink a few more times. Extracting hands from the wood, I hug myself, realising that I'm shivering. Adjusting my strange and incredibly uncomfortable position on the ground, I manage, with great difficulty, to stand up. Not without the help of nearby tree though.

My legs are like jelly. I feel like all my muscles have been liquefied, and I'm nothing but a puppet, held up by nothing but strings. Stumbling a little, I lurch forwards, circling a few times until my circulation returns to normal. Glancing around, I try to figure out which direction I want to head. My eyes rest on the wolf, and the memories come surging forwards.

Vampire. Paul. Shout. Fall. Roar. Cold. Whisper. Caress.

I can't really make sense of it. But I know I have to. I know I have to understand, to remember, so I can get past this. So I can get on with the two precious days left to me. To enjoy them, preferably with out any emotional breakdowns, which would certainly be brought on by recollections of what happened.

So I do exactly that.

Heading back over to my tree - the one I had gorged with my nails - I sit down on the dead leaves, crossing my legs. Placing my hands on my knees, I close my eyes, and take a deep breath.

Deciding the best move would be to start from, well, the start, I reason it out.

Yes, Paul did, in a manner, kidnap me from Sam's house.

Yes, he did go on a rampage, shouting incoherently. Something to do with me leaving. Which I would be doing soon enough.

Yes, he did then try to hit me, before he was stopped, I assume, by my vampire.

Wait. Did I just call the vampire intent on killing me _my_ vampire? Seriously? It implied some sort of affection, or positive relationship, neither of which exists. Or ever will exist. But after a few seconds, and failure to come p with any other term, I shrug. It doesn't really matter.

And my vampire then knocked him out; probably had lots of fun doing it too.

And yes, he did then treat me with - for lack of any other word as none are even remotely close - a form of affection. Only enforcing in my mind the idea that he is a sadistic vampire intent on killing me. So obsessed that he wants to make sure I'm alive and well when he kills me.

Yes, he did then support this with his whisper, conveying his anticipation of my death, before finally leaving.

I repeat this to myself several times, until I reach a point where I stop freaking out, and accept it. When I start to remember, I can now go through the memories and be indifferent. I can see them, watch it like a movie, and not go into shock.

I'm pretty sure I'm not going to have an emotional breakdown over it. But then again, you never know.

* * *

I sat up with a gasp, my nails digging into the tree bark I had slowly been shredding, piece by piece. I had just realised something incredibly important, something I had completely overlooked in my mental revision earlier.

My vampire had not hesitated to display his twisted affection towards me, his icy touch still lingering on my skin. Or was that just my imagination? Either way, he had touched me.

Which meant I'd have his scent on me.

The scent of a vampire.

How the hell was I going to hide this from the wolves?

I knew a shower wouldn't do the trick; I'd probably run into one of the wolves before I got home anyway. I had to do something here and now. But what? Roll around in the leaves? I doubted that would work.

As my eyes roamed the forest, resting on the unconscious wolf several metres away, inspiration struck.

It wouldn't be unusual for me to smell like wolf; I probably already did from sleeping with Paul anyway. It was the perfect solution. Except for one, little detail.

How to get a wolf scent on me?

Only one answer came to mind.

I would have to hug him. And continue hugging him for a while, if I wanted his scent on me. This was going to be _so_ awkward. Especially if he woke up, but hopefully that wouldn't happen.

Sighing, I clambered to my feet, my joints cracking from being in the same position for so long. Stretching quickly, I walked towards him, stumbling a little in the darkness. Having reached his limp body, I contemplated the easiest way to cuddle up to him.

Turning away and kneeling, I let my body fall slowly backwards until I hit the ground. Slowly, I shuffled backwards, until I was lying next to him on his right side. With difficulty I managed to roll onto my side, my face inches from his dark grey fur. Now for the hard part.

I shuffled over slightly, pressing my body against his, running my hands through his thick fur as I attempted to position myself without waking him. I gasped at his warmth, snuggling closer; until now I hadn't noticed how cold I was. I guess that's what happens when you sit in the forest in the middle of the night wearing a tank top.

Pressing my face into his fur, I inhaled deeply, sighing. This was surprisingly comfortable. It didn't make it any less awkward though; I just couldn't overlook the ongoing rivalry between us.

As the minutes passed by, and he didn't stir, I let my eyes flicker shut. I felt my breathing slow I began to relax, and my heart rate decrease.

Before I could stop myself, I was asleep.

* * *

When I woke up, I had no idea how much time had passed. I blinked blearily, opening my eyes to see a wall of grey. Twisting my head, I managed a glance at my surroundings. It was still dark, so I hadn't been out long. Burying my face once more into Paul's fur, I wondered if enough time had passed for the vampire scent to now be covered with wolf.

Judging by the stiffness of limbs, I guessed it had been long enough. Slowly, I removed my hands and face from his soft fur, shuffling my body backwards slightly, before rolling onto my back. Huffing at the effort, I closed my eyes, breathing in the fresh, cool air. It was nice against my heated skin, brushing against my bare arms.

I didn't have time to enjoy it.

His leg moved, brushing against me. My eyes flew open, glancing at him just in time to see his body roll towards me. I had only a second for a desperate gasp of air before the wolf was on top of me, pressing me into the ground. Fortunately, my head peeked out above his shoulder, allowing me to breathe; kind of.

He was _heavy_. I struggled to get air into my lungs, as my chest was pressed down by his weight. My arms and legs were pinned beneath him. Turning my head to glance at him, it was clear he was still unconscious.

Even though I knew there was no chance for me to escape, I still struggled against him, twisting my body in an attempt to break free; it didn't help. I could barely move, my slight body trapped beneath his massive wolf form. It was clear to me that there was no way I could get out of this with out help.

I knew would likely come in the form of a sadistic vampire. I cringed. He would undo all of my efforts to be vampire free, and would only remind me _again_ of our meeting in a few days. I really didn't want him to come, but I didn't see any other way.

Not until a black wolf - well, it looked black, but it was hard to tell in the darkness - approached us, carefully rolling Paul off me.

Gasping for breath, I rolled away from the wolves, only sitting up once I was a few metres away. It seemed Paul had woken up, as he was on his feet, growling. That was so typical. Now that I was no longer being smothered, it was clear the other wolf was in fact black. From what Quil had told me earlier about the pack, this must be Sam.

It was clear, after a while of the wolves just standing there looking at each other, that he was using his alpha command on Paul. There was no other reason for why they weren't fighting right now. After more growling, they both eventually disappeared into the trees.

After a few seconds, Sam returned, now human and clad in cut-offs. Striding over to me, he offered me a hand, easily pulling me to my feet.

'Thank you,' I said, dusting my jeans of briefly with my hands. I probably had leaves through my hair now as well.

'I've ordered him not to see you again. It seems best, considering how much you two seem not to get along.' I nodded, stifling a smile at his description of our daily fights.

'Do you have any idea why he seems to hate me?' I asked, as he we started walking through the trees, him leading.

With a laugh, he paused, looking back at me.

'Nobody has any idea why Paul does what he does. And I don't think we ever will.'


	19. Plans

**Chapter 19 - Plans**

I was in serious trouble.

As Quil and I stared at each other across the table - his gaze daring, eyebrows raised, mine an evil glare - leaning into each other, I fought the urge to roll my eyes. This was such a cliché movie scene. Fighting to keep my attention on the task at hand, I fingered by chin, thinking.

Which option to choose? Lose a gummy bear, and beat Quil, or gain a gummy bear, and only possibly beat Quil? I didn't want to lose; there was too much at stake. But my gummy bear? Could I bear to lose him?

Hell yeah! Quil was going down. Choosing a card from my hand, I slapped it on the table.

'One 6.'

He pondered for a moment, before smiling evilly, and stating firmly, 'Bullshit.'

'Damn it', I responded, snatching up the pile angrily. At least, I hoped I looked angry. Internally, I was already celebrating.

Regretfully, I picked up one of my remaining gummy bears, and sadly threw it at Quil. Unfortunately, he caught it before it hit him; not that I had expected anything else. He carefully added it to his already large collection, before placing a card down.

'One 7.' I gave him a serious stare.

'Two 8's.', said Embry, slapping his card down. Finally, it was my turn.

I withdrew a selection of cards from my hand, whilst staring at Quil. I didn't have to look at the cards; they were my only four left. Dramatically, I placed them down.

'Four 9's.'

'Bullshit.' Quil stated, snickering. Smiling, I turned over my hand, which was still holding the cards I had just placed on the pile. Spread out in a fan, were four 9's. Quil's face changed from delight to disbelief instantly.

'What! That's not possible!' I laughed as I watched him slowly process what had happened. Dismay was evident on his face as he tapped his chin, deep in thought; he was probably trying to find a way to accuse me of cheating. Looking to Embry, we fist pumped. He had bet that Quil would lose, so it was a win for him, really. I had bet the same, but gone further to say I would win as well. So not only did we get to take Quil's money, as the winner, I received _all_ of the gummy bears. Best prize ever!

'Come on Quil, pay up!' I said, holding out my hand expectantly.

Ten seconds later, Embry and I had split the money, and I was happily chewing on my gummy bears, as I named them and sorted out who was related to who. Enlisting Claire's help, we got to work.

'Don't you think this one looks identical to that green one?' I asked, indicating first the bear in my hand, and then the green one on the table. Claire picked them both up, holding them next to each other a few inches from her face as she squinted at them seriously. Ten, she gasped.

'They do!' She exclaimed, clapping her hands, and in the process, squishing the gummy bears. She squealed, hugging them to her chest.

'I'm sorry gummy bears.' She whispered sadly, before looking up at me.

'What do I do? They're all squished!' She said, indicating to the bears with exaggerated gestures. In response, I plucked one of them up with my fingers, and popped it into my mouth. Claire gasped in horror, before giggling, and picking up her own gummy bear and demolishing it. I gave her a thumbs up.

As we continued our sorting, Claire spoke.

'I've never done this before,' she admitted quietly, deep in concentration. I pressed hand against my heart with a gasp.

'Never made a gummy bear family before? Unbelievable. You've been missing out!' I declared, poking her nose with my finger. Picking up another gummy bear, I continued speaking.

'This is a key part of your childhood, Claire. You must promise to pass it on to everyone you know. And I mean _everyone._ Do you promise?' I asked seriously.

'I promise I will!' She said excitedly. Holding out my hand, I offered her my pinkie. She took it, and we shook solemnly. As we went back to work, I heard a snicker from the kitchen.

'Laugh all you like boys, but the reason you two are so incompetent is a result of not sorting gummy bears as a kid.' I called out.

'Does that make me incompetent too?' Asked Emily, as she walked past the couch I was kneeling in front of. I stopped my sorting to peer over the couch and stare at her incredulously.

'Are you serious? You haven't ever done this before?' She nodded her agreement. I shook my head in disbelief.

'Has anyone here ever done this before?' I asked, glancing around the room. I was answered with a series of no's and shaken heads.

'That would be only you, Chloe.' Said, Embry as he traced patterns on the table he was sitting at.

I slid back down onto my knees, muttering to myself.

'What is the world coming to? Haven't ever sorted gummy bears, honestly...' I continued on like that until Claire and I had sorted _all_ of the gummy bears.

'Now what?' She asked, her voice hopeful.

'Now, we eat!' I exclaimed, stuffing few in my mouth, and chewing on them contentedly. All too soon, we were staring at an empty table, all of the gummy bears gone.

I guess I'd just have to come up with some other childhood making activity that no one here had probably ever heard of.

* * *

Throughout the course of the day, Claire and I constantly surprised and amused our werewolf companions with our variety of activities.

I taught Claire a few songs, and she taught me the art of building an ant village. I adorned her with daisy chains, plus a flower crown, and she introduced me to her secret flower garden.

But we just couldn't stay away from our new favourite activity; chasey with Quil. It was made even more fun by the fact that I got to insult Quil as he dashed after us under my breath, and he couldn't say anything back as he didn't want Claire to pick up any of his bad language.

Sad would be the day I no longer got to tease Quil.

Even sadder was the fact I knew that day would come, and soon.

* * *

The rest of the day, and the night that followed, passed without incident, thank god. I was totally and completely over the whole _I'm going to kill you but first I'm going to stalk you and constantly remind you about it_ act. I was doing everything possible to put the fact that this was my final day out of my mind; I wasn't doing so well. There was just something about my impending death that kept it constantly on my mind.

So as I lay in bed, trying my hardest to avoid contemplating anything death related, I inevitably found myself thinking about it. More specifically, what would happen afterwards. I firmly directed my mind away from all things involved with people, but instead focused on the actual event. To everyone, it would seem as if I had just disappeared. Would I be one of the mystery disappearances that were never solved? Would I be declared dead after a few years? Would the wolves find out what actually happened? Or would Matt spend his whole life trying to find me?

These were the questions that haunted me for the rest of the day. Mostly it was the last one. I didn't want my brother to look for me; he wouldn't find me. Somehow, I needed to tell him I had been murdered, but I would have to do it _after_ I was dead.

Not exactly an easy thing to do. I mean, when was the last time anyone talked to someone after dying? Fortunately, I had already come up with a plan; anything to avoid be locked up. And seeing as never letting my brother know what happened wasn't an option, it had better work.

I had started on it yesterday, and hopefully today would see it ready to go; I didn't exactly have time for a plan B; not that one existed anyway.

I groaned, stretching my hands above my head. All this thinking had woken my brain up; now I would never get back to sleep.

* * *

It was raining.

Had I expected anything else? No.

Did I mind? No.

In fact, I enjoyed the soft splashes of water as I wandered. They were cool against my heated skin, and even better, disguised the few tears that clung to my cheeks.

Now, I had nothing against crying. Several months ago, I found myself doing it quite frequently, as I laughed so long and hard that my vision blurred and my lungs abide as I gasped for breath. In recent times, tears of sadness had become the norm. But no matter how familiar I was with the cool trails tears left on one's cheeks, it was not ideal for me to be crying right now. I wanted my last day to be happy; or, as happy as it could be in current circumstances. All tears would lead to would be uncomfortable questions, and way too much attention, that would eventually require answers.

And so I relished the fact that the day looked to be normal, and made life so much easier, and continued saying my wordless goodbyes. I planned to visit all the main buildings, even though there were few, and even though some I had probably never seen or been in. I was leaving, and this was my last chance.

I wasn't going to waste it.

My journey eventually led me to the beach. I avoided the trees on the far end; no need to give anyone a panic attack. I just sat on the beach, water lapping at my now bare feet, in the light drizzle of rain. And I was happy.

However, I couldn't stay for long. I had a long list of things to do, and not much time to do them.

* * *

When I got home, the house was silent and empty; just what I'd been hoping for. It would be so much easier to do this without an audience, even if they weren't in the same room. There was just something about my brother having superhuman hearing that took away my sense of privacy.

I was planning to die without anyone knowing, and hence, couldn't say goodbye. But I still wanted to, somehow. Thankfully, I had come up with a brilliant idea to do so.

Letters.

I was going to write letters. And not the formal _I know I'll be dead when you read this_ type. That definitely wasn't my style. Instead they were going to focus on the positives, on happy things, so when they read them, they'll remember me, and smile.

I guess I'm actually a big marshmallow inside; not that my outside is any less squishy and huggable.

And so I fumbled through the junk on my desk until I found a notepad and pen, and began to write.

I was so caught up in the emotion that flooded through me, and the thickness in my throat, I failed to notice the tears that rolled down my cheeks and dripped onto the pages.


	20. Missions

**Chapter 20 - Missions**

There was something crawling on me. More than one something. I swore under my breath.

Dumb ants.

Rolling up my jeans, I quickly brushed the ants off my legs, flinging them into the surrounding bushes. Brushing my hands down my arms, and declaring them ant free, I returned my attention to house in front of me.

From my position in the shrubbery bordering Quil's house, I couldn't see much. Just a wall and the window of what I hoped was Quil's bedroom. I had long since given up at trying to creep quietly through the gardens of the residents of the reservation. It just wasn't possible. But I was very good at sneaking.

Positioning myself just below the window, and hoping no one was in there, I poked my eyes over the window sill. Empty, thankfully. And definitely Quil's room. The window was conveniently open, as expected by someone who snuck out almost daily. I hoisted my leg over the edge, expertly dropping into the house.

Pulling a note from my back pocket, I contemplated the best place to put it. Not in the wardrobe; by the amount of clothes spread around the room, I doubted there was anything in it. He wouldn't find it there. But if I put it on the bed, he'd probably just sleep on it. Where was somewhere he'd be sure to notice it?

But it couldn't be too obvious; I didn't want any questions asked until I was gone. As my gazed roamed the room, an idea struck me. Quickly ripping off a piece of sticky tape from the roll in my pocket, I climbed onto his bed. Slowly standing up, I reached up and taped the note to the ceiling, right above his pillow. Smiling, I jumped off the bed, and once more clambered through the window, dropping into the bush.

Another house down; the people of La Push really needed better security.

* * *

I had put a lot of thought into my last house. It was never empty, so sneaking in wouldn't be easy. Add in the fact that there was always a werewolf inside, and it was impossible.

Fortunately, I had a plan.

Seeing as being caught would be inevitable, I needed an excuse to be there. And so I recruited Claire.

We were out on the grass, playing, when I proposed my idea.

'I just had an idea,' I said, and she stopped running, turning to look at me. I gestured at her to come closer, and she did. Ducking our heads together, I whispered in her ear.

'Let's play spies.'

'Ok,' she immediately agreed, smiling.

'We have to be _really_ quiet, ok? We have to be sneaky.' She nodded her head.

'I reckon we should sneak into the house. What do you think?' Another nod.

'But proper spies don't use doors, Claire. We'll have to go in through a window.' She gasped, but nodded firmly.

Performing our secret handshake, we crept towards the house.

Reaching the wall, we pressed our backs against it as we stepped sideways. At the corner, we crouched down, conferring.

'So, the bedroom's our target, alright? Are you ready?' she nodded.

'Check the coast is clear.' Claire poked her head around the corner, and gave me a thumbs up.

Letting her lead, we continued creeping along the house until we reached the bedroom window. Unlocked, luckily; this would've been a really short mission otherwise. Glancing into the room, and determining it was empty, I judged the distance from the ground to the window. Deciding I would have to lift Claire in first, I knelt by her side.

'What do we do now?' she whispered.

'I'll lift you in, and you keep watch as I follow. Ready?' she nodded.

Opened the window slowly, wary of creaks that would give us away, before lifting Claire up and hoisting her through the window. Carefully I lowered her, before releasing her once she touched the floor. She moved away from the window, and I clambered through, trying not to thump as I landed.

Kneeling, I gave Claire a high five.

'Do you think we should leave a message?' I asked, and she smiled, nodding. I tore a piece of paper off the notepad from my pocket, and took out a pen. Handing it to her, she set to work. Whilst she was preoccupied drawing, I glanced around the room for a place to hide my note. Opening the wardrobe, and spying a pile of shirts on the top shelf that looked little worn, I placed it on top. Closing the door, I knelt down next to Claire and admired her handy work. Getting another sheet, I quickly wrote a message.

_Claire and Chloe were here._

Placing the messages on top of a pillow, we exited via the window, giggling as we landed on the ground.

Mission complete.

* * *

I returned home after saying goodbye to Claire. Checking the house to make sure I was alone, I sat down at the desk in my bedroom. I had been putting this off. All of my adventures this morning had been necessary, but also an excuse to postpone this.

My final, and most important, goodbye. Just the thought of writing it made me sad. But I didn't have much time until I was no longer alone, so it had to be done.

It took me a while, with much agonizing on how to word everything right. But eventually, I was done.

_Dear Matt,_

_You're a good brother. You know that, right? You've done everything you could have to look after me._

_So stop blaming yourself._

_I'm sorry I didn't say anything. But it's my problem, and I'll deal with it my way. I know your solution would keep me safe, like you always have, but it's not what I want. Though you may be content to keep me locked in bubble for my entire life, that's not me. I'm an outside person, I don't do caged, and you know it._

_I know I'm being cryptic, and you'll be scowling as you read this, but it's too complicated to explain fully. Even I don't know everything._

_Just know that you couldn't have done anything. And that this is in no way your fault. At all. So don't you dare go on moping for the rest of your life._

_I hate to leave you, but I must. Don't be sad. Don't torture yourself. Live your life, and enjoy it._

_Do this for me._

_Goodbye._

_Love always,_

_Chloe_

_PS: Smile :)_

I was crying, of course. Tears overflowed from my eyes, coating my cheeks, as I folded the note and left it in the middle of my desk. Standing up, I paced the room, trying to compose myself.

It was pointless. I had to find something to distract me, before someone saw me like this. It would bring on too many questions. But first, I needed a shower; I smelled like rain.

* * *

I emerged from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around me. I headed downstairs, searching for my nail polish stash. I knew painting my nails would require concentration, which would distract me, hopefully. After finding a toiletry bad full of a variety of colours, I headed through the kitchen on my way back upstairs.

That's when I saw it.

Glancing through the window routinely as I passed, I saw something. Something that shouldn't be there. A tall, dark figure, standing on the edge of the forest, and they were staring at me. I couldn't make out who it was, but I had my suspicions. I could think of a certain person for whom this behaviour would not be strange.

Frowning, I made my way to the front door, heading out in the direction of the man. As I approached I easily identified him; I was not surprised.

Paul.

I folded my arms as I stopped before him, staring right back at him.

'What are doing here?' I asked firmly.

His eyes left mine, giving me a once over. They lingered a little too long, and he smirked before meeting my gaze once more. Glancing downwards, I realised what had amused him.

I wanted to punch myself for being such an idiot. I wanted to groan and swear in frustration.

I was standing in front of him wearing nothing but a bath towel.

But I couldn't show any reaction. Not in front of him. I repeated my question.

'Annoying you.' He replied.

'Well, I'm busy.' I said, turning to head back into the house. He grabbed my arm, his warm hand turning me back around to face him.

'Let me go.' I stated, firmly. His hold didn't loosen. I sighed, and prepared to launch into a fierce lecture. But before I could open my mouth, his hand was gone. Then suddenly it was reaching toward my forehead, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I stepped backwards, shocked.

And then he was gone, his back slowly receding as he walked through the trees.

Shaking my head, I closed the door behind me as I returned to the house.

Paul was so weird.


	21. Fear

**Chapter 21 - Fear**

My face was scrunched up in concentration, as I focused my undivided attention on my thumbnail. Ever so slowly, my right hand - holding the brush - approached. And just as it touched, and I moved to brush it over the nail, my brother decided to make his presence known.

'Boo.' He whispered into my ear. I screamed, which in my opinion was a perfectly acceptable reaction, given my current vampire predicament. Of course, Matt had no knowledge of this, and so I elicited a large bout of laughter from him. As my heart rate slowly returned to normal, my scream faded and transformed into a groan of anger.

'Look what you did!' I shrieked, pointing to the line of clear nail polish that streaked across the counter. I grabbed a tissue, wiping it off before it could dry, continuing.

'You better thank your lucky stars that it was the bench that got it, because you could have ruined my _perfect_ nails.'

'Oh, what a tragedy that would have been.' He responded, earning him a glare.

'What are you here for anyway?' I asked, quickly packing up my nail stuff before something else could happen. Like me smashing a bottle on his head.

'Just checking you're still alive' he said, grinning, and ruffling my hair. I tried to school my face into a neutral expression as I ducked my head, leaning away out of his range. His words struck a chord in me; tomorrow there was high probability I wouldn't be.

As he left the room, I raised my hands admiring my handiwork. My nails were a glistening royal blue, with a coating of silver glitter. They looked like the sky; stars sparkling away in the night.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

'There is something seriously wrong with you man.' Jared said, as he lounged on Emily's couch, practically inhaling a packet of chips.

'Why?' I asked, frowning as a sudden bolt of sadness struck me, for no apparent reason. And then it was gone, like the wind had blown it away, and I was left smiling to myself as I stole a chip from Jared's rapidly dwindling supply.

'That's why. Did you see yourself just then? You went from normal, to sad, to happy in the space of 3 seconds. It's not normal.'

'I have to agree.' Quil inputted from his position by the table. I agreed with them.

There were mood swings, and then there was this. Normal people didn't change emotions as much as I had in the past few days. And most of the time it didn't even have a cause. It would just come over me. I could be having a ball, and the next minute I'd be staring gloomily at the floor.

It was driving me crazy.

'And that's not even considering your new obsession.' Jared continued. Nobody needed to be informed of what that obsession might be. My reaction towards Chloe Walker was just as confusing as my raging emotions. There was hardly ever a moment when there wasn't some part of my brain thinking of her.

At first I'd thought it was imprinting. But the amount of times I'd infuriated and attacked her made it plain that was not the case. I'd suffered hearing other's thinking of their imprints, and they felt nothing but love.

And there was Sam. He had ordered me with his deep, booming, double voice, that held the power of the alpha, not to see her again. Yet I had found myself at her house, watching her, without even deciding I was going there.

It shouldn't be possible, but it had happened all the same.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

Sleep eluded me.

I had kept myself as busy as possible, doing anything and everything to avoid having a spare moment to contemplate the future. Or rather, my lack thereof. I was zombielike in my effort to distract myself.

Going upstairs, going downstairs. Wandering the house aimlessly, straightening curtains and pillows, arranging magnets on the fridge, lining up my shoes. Sorting all my nail polish in colour order, folding all the sheets in the downstairs cupboard, turning all the mugs in the kitchen so that the handles were facing in the same direction. Making sure all the clocks in the house were perfectly synchronised, turning off the switches at all unused power points, and fussing around with anything I could get my hands on. I was a machine, a mindless robot. But it couldn't last, and around 8pm, the major freak out came, as I had known it would.

I was clad in my matching singlet and shorts pyjamas, standing in the doorway, staring miserably at my bed. For the first time in my life, I dreaded going to sleep. Because I knew with certainty that the moment I got in bed, my mind would run wild, my imagination conjuring all sorts of terrible scenarios for the next 24 hours.

Yet I climbed in anyway, and I vented my fear and frustration by punching and screaming into my pillow, and violently throwing around my pillow and duvet, as image after image came surging at me.

Me, dead on the bathroom floor. Matt, finding my body in my closet. Blood, soaking into the couch as my life is sucked from me. My screams as I'm dragged from the house and through the woods. Dark, burgundy eyes, staring at me with hunger. Sharp teeth grazing my neck. A pale figure grabbing me from behind. Me, dead in a million different places, dying a hundred different ways, and repeatedly, the face of my brother when my body is found.

I am terrorised for what seems to be an eternity, before I can break momentarily from the frenzy that has consumed me. Stumbling downstairs, peeking around corners and looking behind me for any movement, any sound. Fingers fumbling for the sleeping pills that I so desperately need if I'm to survive the night. Glancing with despair and unseeing eyes at the microwave clock. 9.14.

Some distant part of my mind moans with dismay that the hours of torture have passed barely an hour, but I don't dwell on it. As I begin to fall prey once more to the haunting visions, I have only the brain power to focus on getting back upstairs.

For if Matt finds me like this, there is nothing I can say to explain my condition. I can only thank fate that tonight he isn't at home, to witness this.

* * *

With a long, slow rumble, a thunderous crack tore through the air. Jerked violently from my uneasy sleep, I lurched into a sitting position with a gasp. As the pitter patter of rain started up, I slowly came to my senses. Scrambling out of bed, I rushed to the window and drew back the curtains in time to see an almighty flash light up the sky.

I blinked frantically, trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness that followed. By the looks of it, it was the middle of the night. I had only slept a few hours, if I was lucky. And after all that time spent lying in bed, even with a sleeping pill. I started as the reason I had taken it struck me. Glancing toward the alarm clock on my dresser, the glowing green numbers stared evilly back.

12.57.

As my brain finally started working at full speed, I glanced around my room uneasily, searching for my expected supernatural guest. There was no way I was going back to sleep now. Though I found no reason for concern, I couldn't prevent the fear I had been hiding for days now from filling me up.

I could feel my hands shaking, my legs trembling, as I clutched the window frame for support, my nails digging in as if holding on tight enough will keep me here, and save me from the monster that terrorises me.

Jumping as thunder once more booms through the air, and a strangled sob escapes my lips, as I stare out the glass.

I see it. Barely. It's just a flash, and I'm almost certain I imagined it. But the sight of the pale figure standing along the tree line strikes me like I've been tasered, and I yelp as I thrust myself away from the window. My hands are clasped over my mouth as I hold in my scream, hot tears rolling down my cheeks as my self control disintegrates.

I am gasping and hiccupping as I continue stumbling backwards, into a solid, cold object. I whirl around, expecting to see that I've staggered into my dresser.

Instead I find myself inches away from him.

My vampire, his hands grasping my shoulders to steady me as my breath whooshes out in a rush. Ice cold, deathly pale in the brief lightning flash that illuminates him. Eyes glinting, a sinister smile on his face. I want to scream, but I can't. I want to yank away, even though it would be pointless, but I can't. I am frozen.

I am rooted to the ground, mute, as his hand travels over my shoulder and sweeps my hair away from the left side of my neck. I feel a twinge as his hand rests behind my neck, and the last thing I'm aware of before I crumple is his whisper.

'I'm here.'


	22. Chained

**Chapter 22 - Chained**

When I wake, my face is pressed against a cold, hard surface. My back aches from my awkward position sprawled across a dull grey floor.

But I am alive.

As I blink blearily, eyes adjusting in the dim light, I take a look at my surroundings. Not that I can see much. Everything is grey and made of metal. Blocking my view of the room is a large bench to my left, and a similar one a bit further on my right. Yet another bench, though this one has some sort of machine on top of it, is in front of me by about 5 metres, with a round metal pole protruding for the cement midway between us. Turning my head to glance behind me, I am unsurprised to find a fourth bench, this one only inches away from me.

High above me is the ceiling, with several skylights providing the only light in the room. As I see nobody in the vicinity, I try to adjust my intensely uncomfortable position on the floor. But when I make to move my arms, I can't. A pressure on my wrists alerts me to the fact that something is wrong, very wrong, and I crane my neck and shuffle forward so that I can see in full the shiny silver handcuffs locked around my wrists.

I try to harness the panic that threatens to overwhelm me, convincing myself that it is only my hands that I can't use, and that it will be easy for me to stand up and leave this place.

However I got here. He must have taken me. He had taken me; there was no question. And from my experiences so far, I doubted that I would be able to do anything without him there to watch my every move.

Gut instinct was telling me I wouldn't even have a chance to escape; yes, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to leave here alive.

Fear flooded through me as I noticed the chain attached to my handcuffs. Following it with my eyes, I saw it was wrapped around the metal pole I had observed earlier. Crawling over to the pole, I scrambled awkwardly to my feet. It was then that I became aware of my clothing.

I was in pyjamas. My thin, not skimpy but not very covering either, pyjamas. They made me feel even more vulnerable.

After a few seconds of inspection, it was clear that I would not be able to escape my chains. But that realisation didn't stop me trying, as panic and fear possessed me. I couldn't move more than a metre away from the pole in any direction, yet still I yanked on the chains, desperate to get away. My fingers fumbled at the chain, which was bolted to floor. A bit extreme in my opinion, but definitely impossible to break. My wrists turned and pulled in my cuffs, rubbing painfully against the metal.

I did everything and anything that popped into my head, as tears of fear, frustration and panic flowed down my cheeks. My breath kept hitching in my throat, and I was gasping from the exertion. I was determined, and probably would have persisted for hours longer, if not for the sound of his voice behind me.

'Having fun?'

I froze, immediately stopping my assault on the chain. I tried taking slow deep breaths, in an effort to prevent myself from hyperventilating. I turned slowly, backing towards the pole as I did so, so that I wouldn't strangle myself with the chain.

He was leaning casually against one of the many benches that filled the room, his arms folded, watching me. His eyes were a bright red, and I didn't know whether to be glad he wasn't thirsty, or sick that he had probably killed someone. He made no move towards me as he began speaking once more.

'You must know it's pointless. You cannot escape.' Normally I would have had a witty retort to his comment, but at the moment I was too busy trying to hide my terror.

'I'm sure you must have questions for me.' His eyes glinted with amusement, and I averted my gaze to the floor. Even if I could pluck up the courage to ask, I doubted my voice would even work.

'Quiet, aren't we? Well, I'll answer them for you then.'

'We're currently residing in an abandoned factory, the location of which I will not be telling you. As for the phone call and the notes, it was just too difficult to resist the temptation to remind you of our meeting. You're still alive, because, as I recall, I told you I have something special planned.' I tried not to show how much the special plan terrified me, but I think my shaking hands and heavy breathing gave me away.

'Which is the reason I didn't kill you the first day we met. And why I haven't let anybody lay a hand on you since then. And it's not just because if anybody's going to kill you, it's going to be me.' Even though my brain could barely function due to fright, I was pretty sure that was twisted logic.

'It's because I had an idea. One that I'm not yet going to tell you, because I want it to be a surprise. But rest assured, if you survive, and unfortunately that's not very likely, I will tell you.' I didn't have time to ponder why he would disappointed if I died. I probably didn't want to know. I was too busy focusing on the fact that I was going to die.

He straightened, and began walking towards me. I stumbled backwards quickly, my breath coming in ragged pants that bordered on hyperventilation. My mouth was as dry as paper, and a sob escaped my lips as I saw his smile. All too soon I was as far away from the pole as I could get, straining my arms in a futile effort to get away.

He was still approaching slowly, and he veered slightly to the right as to skirt the pole I was bound to. I lurched to the left, desperate to get away, but found myself skidding to a stop as he appeared in front of me. I slammed myself backwards, into the pole, my breath whooshing out of me.

I whimpered as he stopped just centimetres in front of me, towering over me. One of his hands snaked forward to snag a lock of my hair and to twirl it round his fingers. He brought it to his nose and inhaled, a smile spreading across his lips.

'Beautiful.' He breathed.

I trembled as he released it, unable to look away from his face. I saw in his eyes his anticipation, longing, and something snapped inside of me.

'Please don't.' I croaked, pleadingly.

'Don't. Please don't. I'll do anything.' He said nothing, but simply stroked my forehead softly, his cold hands sending shivers through me. He leaned forward, clutching my shoulders, his nose touching the top of head as he breathed me in once more.

'No. Don't do this. Please don't.' Tears began rolling down my cheeks as my pleads turned more and more hysterical.

He moved backwards, pulling me with him, as I clung to the pole with desperation.

'No. No. Don't.'

He twisted, turning me with him, as I thrashed and began yelling, panic consuming me.

'NO. Don't. No! Please! Please don't!'

He was behind me now, and I was facing the pole, arms reaching out, wheeling through the air as I clutched desperately for it.

'NO! DON'T DO IT. PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T!' I was yelling louder now, my voice screeching and desperate as I begged.

He had my arms pinned by sides as his right arm encircled me, holding me around the waist and pulling me tight against him. I thrashed in his grasp, but he had me imprisoned.

'NO! DON'T!' My cries were half screams now.

His hand was brushing my hair away from my neck, and I felt something cold rest against my bare neck before I heard him breathe in again. I continued struggling, but he held me in place with ease.

'PLEASE! NO!' I screamed.

I felt his teeth graze my neck lightly, and I started screaming.

Not words. I was too irrational for that. I screamed until my lungs were empty, then I gasped for air, and screamed some more.

As his teeth sunk into my throat, pain burned through me. My screams now were different. They were bloodcurdling, terrible screams.

It hurt. Oh, it hurt. My throat was on fire, and the pain was unbearable, and still I was screaming as no one should ever have to scream.

I could distantly here him moaning with pleasure as he drank from me, and as time passed, my screams grew quieter and quieter.

They were dying screams now. I was on fire, and my vision was clouded with splotches of black. I hurt so badly, and I couldn't feel my body anymore. All I was aware of was pain, in a thick ocean of blackness.

And then there was nothing at all.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

'Paul. Paul? Paul, you idiot, wake up.'

I woke to the sound of someone calling my name, while slapping me on the cheek. I swung my hand in the general direction of the voice, and was rewarded with a solid thwacking sound as my hand connected with the speaker.

'We'll, he's awake.' They - the voice sounded like Jared - called out. I opened my eyes, blinking to get the water off my lashes. Jared was sitting in the chair opposite mine, rubbing his ear. I rubbed my eyes, and found my entire face wet. In fact, my entire body was wet.

'Why am I wet?' I growled.

'Because we dumped a bucket of water on you,' piped up a cheerful Quil, holding up a bucket as if he needed to convince me. His grin soon turned into a frown.

'Why?'

'Because you wouldn't wake up.' Quil answered. That was weird. I was a light sleeper.

'But I don't remember that.' I said, confused.

'That's probably because you slept through it.' Jared replied.

'Seriously, there's something wrong. Last night, you were just sitting at the table, making a weird face for some unknown reason, and then all of sudden you were out cold.' He continued, whilst glancing towards the clock.

'You've been out for about 16 hours, I think. And you weren't sleeping.'

But before I could even begin to complicate this latest progression in my erratic behaviour, I felt it.

It was kind of like the feeling in your stomach we wolves got when we smelled a vampire, except there was no burning. Something just felt wrong. Something _was_ wrong.

But I had no idea what it was.


	23. Screams

**Chapter 23 - Screams**

_Paul's POV_

I fought the urge the slam my head against the wall.

The wrongness pervaded me, consuming my thoughts so that I could think of nothing else. I knew with absolute certainty that something was wrong.

I just didn't know what.

Along with the wrongness were other feelings; a sense that the wrongness must be stopped, fixed, cured. And a feeling of urgency, to discover the still elusive wrongness, and destroy it.

I leapt from my chair and started pacing by the window; I couldn't bear to sit still. I was restless, muttering all the while under my breath like a mantra 'Wrong. Something wrong.'

'Paul, what the hell are you going on about?' Quil asked. I didn't answer, putting all my energy my pacing.

'Something's wrong. What is wrong? What could be wrong?' I continued muttering, distantly hoping but not believing it would help. The urge to do something was eating at me.

As I continued straining my brain, the sound of Emily's low voice as she talked to someone on the phone cut through my concentration.

'Paul's having some sort of breakdown, he-'

'I'm not having a breakdown.' I said firmly, spinning around to face her, before launching back into my pacing.

Breakdown. Why did that nag at me? Why had that reached through the frenzy that now drove me?

'Breakdown. Something to do with a breakdown.'

Who had had a breakdown? And how was that related to me going insane? My thoughts were running round in circles and were driving me crazy.

It was then that I heard it. My head, which had been lowered as I stared at the floor, shot up, as I stopped suddenly.

'What was that?' I asked, staring out the open door into the trees.

As I spun around the face Quil, I asked. 'Did you here it?'

He exchanged a look with Jared before answering.

'Hear what?'

I heard it again. Tilting my head slightly to the side, I strained to make out the sound.

Once more it pierced my ears, and with horror I came to realise what it was.

'Screaming' I said.

'What?' Quil asked.

'I can hear someone screaming. A girl.'

Shaking my head as if to rid myself of the sound, I started pacing again, mentally cringing each time another scream reached my ears.

The urgency and frustration increased the longer I paced. I had bits and pieces of information, but they were just pieces, few of many, in the puzzle. Somehow, they were all connected.

As the loudest, worst scream yet rent the air, and my head snapped around to stare off in the direction it came from, I saw the worried, perplexed expressions that adorned Jared and Quil as they stood staring at me. But the observation was gone from my mind with a flash, as the wrongness continued to consume me, and the screams continued to torment me.

It was too much. By now the change was creeping up on me, as my arms began to tremble. My breaths were deep and heaving, and beneath them I could start to make out the rumbling growl of the wolf.

Stumbling and spasming, I tumbled outside, just in time to spare the house. With a howl I clawed the ground, trying to shake off the urgent fear that was devouring me. A primal instinct was overpowering me, stealing my will and remoulding it. Though I still did not know why this was happening, the wolf no longer cared. All I knew was that every fibre of my being wanted me to go somewhere, towards the screams.

So I gave into it. Becoming a spectator in my own body, I mindlessly surged forward into the trees.

Nothing could stand in my way. I tore through bushes, flattening them, hacking until they were beyond recognition. My claws dug deep gauges in trees, and some of the smaller trees were knocked over in my haste.

The voices of my brothers filled my head, but I could not hear them. I was fixated on one thing, and one thing alone.

Finding the screaming, and ending it.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

I was tired. So tired. I was the kind of weary that you get when you've stayed up til 5 in the morning, and you've turned into a zombie. But you can't fall asleep, because your brain is gone, and nothing makes sense.

And I ached. It was the ache that you get when you sleep for 14 hrs in the wrong position, and wake to find that your limbs no longer respond to your commands.

All I wanted to do was fall asleep, and all this thinking of sleep was only reinforcing that desire.

But I couldn't. Because my brain suddenly turned on, and if I'd had the strength, I probably would have sat upright in flash. As it was, I resisted a moan, forcing myself to acknowledge that the cold concrete beneath me was proof of what I had faintly hoped was a dream.

But then something occurred to me. Was I dead? It seemed likely, but I'd always thought death would be less... painful.

_Bang!_

My heart almost leapt out of my chest as the sound echoed around me. My eyes flew open, and I found myself staring at an all too familiar set of benches, and a still shiny chain that stretched away from the handcuffs I still wore.

No, this was not death.

This was far worse.

I knew I needed to move. And the first step was sitting up.

Unfortunately, that proved a lot harder than normal. I was weak and stiff, and apparently incapable of doing anything.

I tried. I really did. On the count of 3 I was going to move.

1.

2.

3.

Nothing. I was helpless. That was until I heard the sound of footsteps.

Who would have known what a great motivator they were?

Slowly, ever so slowly, I clawed my hands over to the nearest bench. Fumbling, I managed to take hold of the bench, and began to heave myself upwards. All the while, the sound of his shoes was growing louder.

I know I was moving slowly. Too slowly. Yet he never seemed to reach me. He was probably entertained to see me so weak. But though I tried, I could not haul myself upwards. I could only grapple, and whimper, as I eventually slumped awkwardly on my front, heart pounding, breaths heaving. Tears began to fall, as I silently stared at the floor.

Suddenly, ice cold skin touched mine. I shrieked, as his arms wrapped around my torso and easily lifted me upwards, setting me on my feet. I was in the circle of his arms, trapped, swaying as my legs threatened to give out, as he spoke.

'Giving up, are we?' he drawled. I started, yanking myself backwards, and surprisingly found myself free, falling to the ground. I collapsed in a heap, the breath whooshing out of me. My bones ached, bruised from the fall, and the skin on my hands was red. Somehow, I managed not to strangle myself with the chain.

Once again he lifted me, this time positioning me in a sitting position against the pole. He sat facing me, his eyes a luminous red, brighter than I'd ever seen. All of this happened in a speedy blur, leaving me disoriented, and it took me a second to notice that he was playing with my hair, sniffing it. I wanted to yank it back; I didn't want him touching any part of me. But I'd seen enough movies to know that provoking a kidnapper was never a good move.

Trying not to think too much about that, I jumped as he spoke again.

'You're alive.' I stared back at him, questioning.

'That makes me very happy.' He said, taking my hands in his. I resisted, but to no avail; he was a vampire. I remained silent. I did _not_ want to know why he wanted me alive.

In fact, why was I alive? How was I alive? I couldn't believe this hadn't occurred to me until now. If I could have, I would have face palmed myself, sadistic vampire or not.

'Why am I still alive?' I asked, confused.

'Because I want you to be.' I raised my eyebrows in response. My emotions overruled my logic and I gave up on not reacting.

'But you attacked me.'

'I did.' Could he be any more vague? This was giving me a head ache. My confusion must have shown, because he laughed, playing with my fingers with a creepy fascination.

'It was a test. For both of us.'

'So why I am alive?' He hadn't gone crazy yet, so I hoped it was safe to ask.

'Because it worked.'


	24. Spirits

**Chapter 24 - Spirits**

'What worked?!' I exclaimed, frustrated. He seemed entertained by my reaction.

'This will require some explanation. I'll start from the beginning, shall I?'

'You see, I was there that day.' I knew exactly what day he was talking about. Fighting the urge to flinch, I stared at the ground as memories flashed into my head. But this was not the time. I could not afford to have a breakdown. Again.

'The day of the crash. And I was fully intending on killing you both.' My eyes were wide, and frozen. My breaths were quickly turning into pants, as I struggled to stay composed. My throat was closed, fear locking my body down. The concrete remained my interest, as I fiercely concentrated on it. I would not look at him.

'The crash should have killed you.' I jumped, but made no other reaction. I longed for him to continue, yet at the same time, was terrified of what he had to say. By now I was trembling, my jaw aching from clenching.

'But it didn't. I was bewildered. Instead of a motionless body, I approached to find you staring at me.' It didn't make sense. Then again, my brain wasn't exactly operating at full power. The tremors were growing stronger. He was still playing with my hands, a gesture that can be described as nothing other than disturbing.

'But while I could only hear one heart beat, I was even more bewildered to sense several people in the car.' I froze, my breath hitching my throat. What? How was that possible? What the hell was he going on about? What did _sense _mean? My head was pounding from the combination of confusion and terror.

'Now, I feel it important that we understand each other on this. After all, we will be spending a lot of time together.'

_What?_

Did I miss something? I could hear my heart racing, as its beats filled my ears. This was not happening.

I fought the urge to stare at him incredulously, and raise my eyebrows. I was _not_ to look at him. I didn't have a rational reason why. But I was determined that I would achieve this small victory. I yanked my hands away, shrinking in on myself. I stared to my left mindlessly, a sudden longing filling me.

'You see some vampires have special _abilities._ And mine is to track. I can sense the tenor of a person's mind, and then follow it. But the thing about the mind is that its essence is really the body's spirit. And your spirit is you. And I had a particularly interesting experience in Italy, many years ago. It was there that I discovered that I could sense the spirits of those who are dead.'

My brain had flat lined. I was shaking now, uncontrollably. My mind was disconnected, trapped in my subconscious. I listened detachedly.

'And I was most intrigued to discover several around you, my dear. You see, it's not very common to come across them. Spirits rarely stay, once the body is dead.'

Suddenly, I snapped. I lurched sideways, in the direction some unescapable force was pulling me towards. I knew not why, simply that I had to go that way. I didn't make it far before the chain stopped me, and I growled in frustration.

Wait. Growled? Did I just growl? What just happened? He was standing in front of me; I hadn't even seen him move. My sudden strength left me, and I crumpled forwards, my vision blurry, and a roar of sound filling my ears. Air rushed into me as I gasped, the world spinning. Then I was in his arms, and the cold was a violent shock.

Shuddering, I blinked, confused. How had I gotten to be in his arms? Fear of his touched consumed me, and I flailed, trying to escape his hold. Reason soon stole over me, and I fully came to my senses resting against one of the many benches, him standing over me.

My voice was raspy, but I managed to get the words out.

'What just happened?'

'Amazing.' He said, once again sitting in front of me. I noticed belatedly that my chain was no longer connected to the pole; one of the links had been torn open.

'Did you do that?' I whispered. It didn't make sense, but at the moment, nothing did.

'I did. It would be terribly disappointing if in the end you accidently strangled yourself.' He stared at me intently, fascinated.

'In the end?' I was scared to ask, but couldn't restrain myself. Knowing was always better, wasn't it?

'The spirits surround you.' He said, completely ignoring me. I stared back at him, and his vibrant eyes. They seemed to glow, and it was creepy. What he had been saying was suddenly sinking in.

Spirits. Another element of the supernatural. I knew only of the spirit warriors, part of our ancestry. Was this connected? I wasn't about to voice my suspicions to him.

There was a minute of silence, during which my brain finally started to work again. Several things he'd said suddenly became very important.

'Why are they there?' I asked meekly.

'As to that, I have no clue.'

'What happened to me?'

'Again, I have no clue.'

'You mentioned _us_.' I said. In my mind, there was no _us._ The craziness had disappeared completely, leaving me once more weak and quiet. Yet my brain was finally working at a decent capacity, and the fear that had become my constant companion was beginning to surface once more.

'Yes. Now that the test has been a success, we can make arrangements for travel.' Travel? Oh no. I was not going anywhere. Unless it was home, and I highly doubted that was the case.

But it looked like I wasn't getting a choice. The terror was growing, my throat closing, and I struggled to respond in an audible manner. As it was, the words were but a whisper.

'Travel?'

'Yes.'

'Why?' He looked almost surprised at my lack of knowledge. He seemed to realise that he had, in fact, not answered this most important and crucial question.

'How remiss of me. I must apologise for not informing you sooner.' Oh no. He was being nice. That meant he was about to deliver _very _bad news.

'You will, of course, be accompanying me to Italy. After all, you survived the test.'

I tried to put it together in my mind. But him trying to kill me, failing, and going to Italy didn't make sense any way I looked at it.

'You see, that was the whole point. If you lived, my plan could then go ahead.' He knew he was dancing around the question; I could tell. A glimmer of a smile graced his mouth, and his eyes danced with amusement.

I was over it. I wanted to answers.

'But why did you not kill me?'

'Well, if you're alive, I can keep you.' Keep me?!

Panic began to set in. My heart began to race as a number of terrible situations popped into my head, and my chest heaved as my breaths grew ragged.

'Why?!' I managed to exclaim, my voice timid and shaky.

'For your blood.'

No. This was not happening. I could feel my mortification reflected on my face, as my mouth parted in shock. My breathing stopped as the full power of that sentence sank in.

I was going to be a blood bank. Locked away, trapped, doomed to nonexistence. I was going to be in pain every day. He was going to bite me on a regular basis.

These thoughts whirled around and around in my mind, as I struggled to accept and understand what the heck was happening.

And why the hell was I a better snack than anyone else?

'But why me? Why _my _blood?' He took my hands again, breathing in my scent. I tried not to be disturbed, but it was difficult.

'La mio cantante.'


	25. Trapped

**Chapter 25 - Trapped**

Was I meant to know what that meant? It wasn't even English.

'What does that mean?'

'You are my singer.' My still blank face started at him.

'It means your blood sings for me. That I find it irresistible.'

No. This was worse than I had imagined.

'But shouldn't I be dead then?' I didn't want to put the idea in his head, but I couldn't figure it out.

'Fortunately, I have a great deal of self control. Enough to leave you in that wreck of a car alive. And after practice, enough control to stop before I drained you dry.'

Practice? I did not want to think about that. I was pretty sure I knew what it constituted, and I was horrified. Tears filled my eyes as I comprehended this.

However, I was surprisingly undecided about whether or not to be relieved that he hadn't killed me. Because the alternative was looking very bleak. There was no way that he would ever let me go.

Somehow, I managed to find a good point in all of this. He wanted me alive. Therefore he wasn't going to hurt me, apart from the whole drinking my blood thing. It meant I had a bit of leverage. And it meant I could put some of my bottled up fear and rage to good use.

But not yet.

'However, for my plan to work, you had to survive. And I was sure that despite my efforts, I would not be able to stop in time. But I had seen something earlier that made me hopeful.'

'Despite your many brushes with injury and danger in the past week, you remain unmarked. How, I have not yet discovered. But I think it likely to be cause by the spirits that seem attached to you.'

Oh, so now I have mysterious healing powers?

How the heck did that happen?

This was sounding more and more like a movie. It was all too unbelievable. I wished it were a dream; but I knew that it wasn't.

Fast healing. It got me thinking about the wolves, and their super fast healing abilities. Somehow, this was all connected. The spirits, the wolves, the healing. If only I knew how.

It was a mystery. And I had never liked mysteries. They gnawed at me, begging to be uncovered. They drove me crazy.

Fighting the urge to fling my hands into the air, and fail because they're chained together, I exhaled slowly, trying to calm myself. Meanwhile, he was _still talking_. It was bizarre.

'But no matter. What's important is that you are alive and coming back with me.'

I glared.

'Do I not get a say in this?' He looked taken a back at my comment, then his expression hardened.

'No.'

'I'm not going.' I stated clearly, determined. I was going to fight this. Now that I had leverage, I was going to use it.

He didn't look happy. His talkative, accepting, normal mood was over. And back was the sadistic vampire I had come to know so well.

'You don't get to choose. I do. And I say you are.'

'Are you going to force me?' Stupid question. Of course he was. But there were limits. And I was counting on those.

'Do you want me to?' He asked. I gave him my 'what do you think?' look

'Yes, I want to be brought to the other side of the world against my will.' My voice was dripping with sarcasm. He didn't seem amused. Quite the opposite actually.

'Just because you're alive doesn't mean you're safe.' He said, and in a blur he was standing over me, and I was on my feet against the pole, our bodies pressed together as his eyes bore into mine. An evil glint was in his eyes, which were still the otherworldly red.

'You know what I am. Don't forget it.' His teeth grazed my neck, and I squirmed, terrified, sealing my lips to hold my screams inside. And then he pulled away, and I collapsed forward, sobs wracking my chest as I sighed in relief. Looking about me as I braced myself against the pole, he was nowhere to be found.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

I was on autopilot. I didn't know where I was going; I hadn't been to this part of the forest. But the wolf did. And it was hell bent on getting there.

For the millionth time I wondered what the hell was going on. My thoughts circled around and around, always coming up with nothing. There was no explanation.

I tried to think back to when this had all started. But it was hard to determine when exactly that was. My memory had been sketchy lately.

Suddenly, I felt a shadow pass over me. My consciousness began to fade, as a mysterious pressure forced me from wakefulness. I had stopped, my full on run dropping to standstill. Curling up into a ball, I growled. I would not yield to this. And neither would the wolf.

I resisted, focusing all of concentration on a twig lying on the ground in front of me. I would not sleep. I would get to the girl. Whoever the heck she was.

My body was shaking, my claws tearing at the ground as I fought my mental battle. I had no idea how long I crouched, focused on staying awake. It could have been seconds, hours, days. All I knew was that eventually, the pressure was gone.

I sprung to my feet, padding the ground anxiously. The sun was in the same position as it had been when was last fully conscious. It meant I hadn't lost too much time to my confusing and bewildering mental attack. Shaking my head, as if to fling off the invasion, I surged back into action. I was a cannon, rocketing through the forest.

I was fixated on my destination; even though I had no idea where it was.

It was then that I noticed that the screaming had stopped. They had filled my head, piercing me, and the silence was deafening. But still I was drawn by the mysterious force, though now I had even less of an idea about why.

Surrendering to the fact that something seriously weird was going on, I continued to run.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

It took me a while to compose myself. Through the overwhelming relief, however, part of me was wondering why he hadn't bitten me. Not that I wanted him to, but it didn't make sense.

I tried thinking back to every movie I'd ever seen about vampires. Usually, the human just died. But in those rare cases they didn't…

They needed transfusions, to replace the blood. Or they had time to replace it. I was pretty sure he hadn't whisked me off to a hospital and mysteriously given me a blood transfusion.

So that was why he needed my supposed self-healing. So I wouldn't die of blood loss. This explained why he hadn't bitten me! He didn't want to kill me, because then he wouldn't be able to drink me anymore. How disturbing.

But it was more leverage for me. I didn't know how long I had until I was back on the menu, but I couldn't afford to waste time.

Then I noticed the chain. The still no longer attached chain.

My heart leapt in my chest. I struggled to my feet, still weak from blood loss.

This was my chance. Using the benches for support, I stumbled to the nearest wall of the warehouse, hoping that I would find escape. The concrete was ice cold beneath my feet, and only then did I realise my shaking might not just be from him.

I was on uber-alert. My ears were pealed, waiting for the slightest sound that he was back. I couldn't stop glancing around me, not just for a door, but for him. My breaths were heaving and shaky, as I dared to hope that I might have a chance.

As I approached the wall, I was able to see it in more detail. Several stories high, the only windows were a skinny row at the top, far beyond my reach. Skylights were fitted in the ceiling, but they were hardly going to be helpful. What I was really interested in was the doors that I could see spaced out along the warehouse.

I wasn't naïve enough to believe that they would be unlocked. A small, insignificant part of me hoped, but I was resigned and unsurprised when I yanked on the handle of the nearest door to no avail.

I wasn't quite prepared to discover that there was no key hole. No latch. No button, lever, code, anything. Nothing that would lead to a way out. Trust him to find a warehouse that was lockable only from outside.

Somewhat pointlessly, I made my way around the warehouse, testing each door, and being constantly disappointed. I wasn't expecting an open door, but still.

I wasn't about to give up. Picking the door I thought looked the most rusted, I started attacking it. I yanked on the handle, I pushed, and I pulled. I tried to jiggle the door sideways. I tried wrapping my chain around the handle and pulling. I tried banging my head against the door.

All my failed efforts did nothing. But I had anger, and I was going to vent it somewhere.

I raged. I shouted. I screamed. I yelled. I kicked. I threw myself at the door. I sobbed. I moaned.

And I made a hell of a racket.

I didn't care. My emotions were raw, and out for the world to see. I was consumed, and I no longer cared. I locked my brain away and just let myself feel.


	26. Asphalt

**Chapter 26 - Asphalt**

_Quil's POV_

I was sprawled over a chair at the table, staring lovingly at the chip I was about to lower into my mouth. I could already taste it, and its intoxicating scent was making my mouth water. With a loud crunch, I moaned in delight as I savoured it.

I loved food.

It was then that Sam gave me a glare, and frowning, I postponed my eating to pay attention to the conversation.

'Tell me what happened.' He asked me, and I groaned, but quickly stifled it in response to his narrowing eyes.

'Well, he was sleeping, or something. And we couldn't wake him up. Eventually, he did wake. And then he suddenly leapt up like he'd been tasered, and started pacing the room. He was muttering the whole time too.'

'He seemed really out of it, but still managed to get annoyed when Emily called you and accused him of having a breakdown.' I shook my head at this, remembering.

'But that wasn't even the weird part. He then kept saying he could hear somebody screaming. But nobody was. It seemed to drive him crazy, because before we knew it, he'd raced out the house, phased, and disappeared.' Sam perked up at this, turning to look at me, surprised.

'He phased?' He asked quickly; his voice an edge of urgency and confusion.

'Yeah.' I answered slowly, curious.

'But I didn't hear him.' He replied; Emily and I both looked confused at this. Sam saw this, and elaborated.

'I phased to run over here, I couldn't hear his thoughts. I didn't even know he was there!' We were all flummoxed at this. This whole situation was confusing.

One thing was for sure though; we had to find Paul.

With a glance, Sam and I were on our feet, out the door and in the trees. Seconds later, we were in wolf form.

_Paul?_ I asked, to no response.

_What?_

_Is there a problem? _The questioning voices of Matt and Seth were clear, but no trace of Paul. I flicked over the events in my head for them, showing what had happened. Meanwhile Sam was issuing an alpha order for Paul.

_PAUL! Get back here now!_

Math and Seth were equally as confused, and were sure that they had not heard a thing from Paul.

It was as if he had disappeared.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

The strength that had possessed me through anger slowly waned. Rage still burned, but I had no power to release it. My head throbbed, the world slightly off kilter. I was slumped against the door, pounding against it with my reddened hand, sobbing and yelling.

I was so consumed that at first I didn't notice the ice cold hands that pried me away. I resisted automatically, my hands scraping the door for purchase. The small, sane part of me screamed to get away, that I was about to bitten. But I was too raw. At the moment, I didn't care about anything.

My rage had sucked away what little energy I had. I was lifeless, an emotion ridden shell. My brain was screaming at me to snap out of this spiral of depression, to stop being angry and gather my wits before he killed me out of frustration. It was trying to figure out where my smart, sarcastic, strong side had crawled off to.

But this was all in the back of my mind. Currently, I was a wreck. My brain was muddled, the ceiling was spinning in circles, and I was flying. Shaking my head to clear it, I managed to get the world to stay still. Feeling was returning to my limbs, and the cold of his arms was startling. But I wasn't yet aware enough to wonder why he was holding me.

Pressed against his chest, I swayed as he walked. Letting my head fall back, I stared upwards, my eyes tracing the shapes of the clouds that cover the sky. They were dull and dark, full to the brim with the promise of rain. The wind was blowing through my hair like a cyclone, as it floated in the air and covered my face.

As I watched, a thunderous boom resounded through the air, and the first rain drops fell from the sky. I caught one in my mouth, savouring the taste, realising just how thirsty I was. The rain grew heavier, the drops plastering my hair to my face.

It was then that I snapped back into myself. We were outside! I looked around frantically, seeing nothing but a typical abandoned industrial area. Warehouses on all side, all identical; I didn't even know which one I had been in. Several dark alleys, and abandoned roads, plus a lot of chain link fences; I couldn't see much else through the now heavy rain. But there was not a person in sight that could help me. However, I was determined. Even though I had no chance of escaping his hold, I was going to use this brief reprieve.

It must have shown on my face, as he slowed to a stop, right in the middle of the street.

'You're not going anywhere.' He stated seriously.

'So I'm not going to Italy then.' I replied happily. He glowered.

'I'll rephrase. You're not going anywhere without me.'

'So I have no choice?'

'None.'

'What about what I want to do?'

'That's unimportant.'

'To you.' He didn't reply.

'I'd like to stand up.' He gave me a look. I squirmed, trying to break his hold.

'No.'

'Why not?' I said, trying to cross my arms in front of me; the handcuffs made it difficult. It was hard to look intimidating and stubborn when he was holding me, but I was going to try.

He seemed to have no answer to my question. Internally, I smiled. Irritating people was my specialty.

With a loud screech, a dark van suddenly came screaming round the corner. Blinded by the headlights, I flailed, screaming. Reliving the accident where this had all started, I panicked. Trying to curl into a ball, I closed my eyes, heart pounding, part of me relieved that this was all going to be over.

Somehow, I'd managed to surprise him. He released his hold on me, and I fell on the hard asphalt, what little breath I had whooshing out. My hands clutching my legs to my chest, I awkwardly rolled, the impact jarring my body; my head slammed into the ground. The world was spinning, and blistering pain bloomed in my head, driving all thought from my mind. Still the car was heading straight for me.

With a crunching sound, it impacted. But it didn't hit me. A white blur had surged forwards, saving me.

I didn't have the brain power to think through any of that though. It was now pouring with rain, and everything was wobbly; the road and everything else tilted at strange angles. But I did have one thought in my mind.

Escape.

While he was off not keeping me prisoner, I had to escape. I had to hide somewhere far away. But first I had to get away.

Thankfully, my head was pounding fiercely enough that all other thought was impossible.

With strength I didn't know I had, I launched off from the ground. Stumbling and swerving for no reason, I tried to keep my balance as my vision continued to tip strangely and spin. I began to run, a bit haphazardly, but it was something. I couldn't make anything out in the rain, but everything was swaying anyway.

With my chest heaving, my breaths whooshing out, and my pulse drumming in my ears, I somehow managed to make some ground. As a building suddenly appeared in front of me, I turned and ran along it, finally having some direction. There was little light, as only weak rays of sun were making it through the heavy and black clouds that dominated the sky.

Despite this, I still checked for traffic before crossing the road. I didn't want to die now that I might just have a chance at life. Finding another building, I followed the wall again, not encountering any sign of life. This only made me more nervous. I kept thinking I saw dark shadows in my peripheral vision, and every lamp post was my crazy vampire waiting for me.

Black figures seemed to be everywhere. Darting across my path, standing by the wall, following my every move. I had to squeeze my lips to shut to stop myself from shrieking every time. But I couldn't stop myself from gasping in surprise when I went to cross the next intersection, and instead found myself falling to the ground.

Staggering sideways, and half bent over, I managed to keep myself from falling flat on my face. Steadying myself, I tried again to find the next building, this time slumping forwards onto my knees before I found some semblance of balance.

The wind was roaring in my ears, the rain a confusing torrent. Attempting once more to stand up and walk, I crumpled as my vision became a blurry grey haze. Collapsing, I hit the road hard, barely conscious.

My face smushed against the asphalt, I stared off down the road, black spots dancing circles across my view. I was dazed, my mind blank. I was simply alive.

My brain was so un-operational that I wasn't even surprised when I was suddenly rolled onto my back to find myself staring vacantly at his bright red eyes. I knew I was supremely confused, because it looked kind of like he was worried.

For some strange reason, by mind refused to fall completely into unconsciousness. It insisted on staying in this stupor, where I was left unresponsive, but still able to see and hear. It was bizarre.

I was left naught but a neutral observer as he picked me up, and started off. I couldn't tell whether the sky was blurry because he was using super speed, or because I was just dizzy. Maybe both?

I wasn't sure how much time had passed when we were all of a sudden out of the rain and inside somewhere. I was thankful that my body was numb because I was probably freezing.

Even though by body was lifeless, I was somehow still surprised by what happened next. Before I knew it, I was lying down on something, and out of nowhere, a woman appeared. I heard a muffled discussion between the two of them, and then she was gone, and he was behind me. In a whirl of colour, I found myself in his arms again.

I saw rather than felt him brush my hair aside. Fear rose in me, as I realised what was happening. But I couldn't move; I was limp. Yet somehow, I still felt the burning pain of his bite. How unfair; I could feel nothing but that. I wanted to scream, and fight, and curse. But I was already half gone, so I had but moments to scream inside before I was unconscious _again_.


	27. Necklace

**Chapter 27 - Necklace**

_Quil's POV_

Claire.

I watched her dreamily as she entertained herself. I was lying on the floor, Claire perched on my chest, and the contact was intoxicating. She was doing something with the rocks we had collected from the beach sometime. I didn't care. All I could think of was the way she laughed as she played.

That was until Matt burst loudly into the room raving like a madman.

'She's gone. Again!'

'Chill dude,' I responded, smiling as Claire played with my hand. There was no need to ask who _she_ was.

Plumping down onto a chair, he sighed heavily.

'What if something's happened?' he asked anxiously.

'Relax. She does this all the time. She'll be fine.'

'How do you know?'

'Do I look like I tell the future?' I retorted, bouncing Claire up and down. He glared. Sighing, I responded carefully. No need for somebody else to have a breakdown.

'Look. You have got to get used to this. She probably does it for the express purpose of worrying you. Every time you freak out about something happening, nothing does. She's got a brain, she can use it. Relax.'

He huffed, but didn't shout at me, which I was glad for. Claire had just smiled at me, and suddenly the world seemed so much brighter.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

I woke on a soft surface. It was a nice change to the hard concrete I had become so familiar with. I was still stiff, but now the ache was more than just lack of limb use. Blinking blearily, I lifted my arm to examine it. Colourful bruises adorned it.

But that wasn't what surprised me. It was the fact that I was now wearing different clothes. Awkwardly twisting, I squirmed so that I could make out the jeans and top I now wore. Even more bizarre; they were my clothes. As were the ugg boots on my feet. I saw that I was lying on a bed, which was also confusing.

What had happened? I remembered the almost crash; that was imprinted in my mind. After that, only flashes. There was rain, and black figures, and I was falling to the ground. And a woman. How she fit into all of this I had no idea. But I fervently hoped that she was the one responsible for my change in clothes, and not him.

As a fierce pain suddenly shot through my head, I raised a hand to my head, groaning. And I sat up in surprise. Holding my hands out in front of me I saw that not only were there no chains visible, but the handcuffs were gone. I quickly flopped down again, as my head throbbed.

So I was no longer imprisoned. I couldn't decide whether that was a good or bad thing. I had no objection to having full movement of my arms, but why?

Nothing made sense anymore. And my pounding head certainly didn't help. Resigning myself to the fact that it probably wouldn't go away for a few hours, I rolled onto my side to find a plate of food on the bedside table. My stomach growled.

Hauling myself towards it, I started eating, savouring the taste of the sandwiches. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten. I also skulled the glass of water next to it. Feeling somewhat alive for the first time in days, I stretched out, yawning. I couldn't believe I was still tired, the amount of times I'd been unconscious lately.

Actually, I had no idea how long it had been since that night. Had Matt found out I was gone yet? Or had it been more than a day or two? This whole constantly being unconscious thing was confusing.

Not to mention the fact that yet again I had no idea where I was.

I suppose I should make good use of my freedom. Clambering off the bed somewhat reluctantly - it was comfy - I winced in pain. Rolling up my jeans, I was unsurprised to discover more bruises. What the hell had happened? Rubbing my neck nervously, I was shocked to find a scar that resembled a bite mark. But I thought he'd bitten the other side? Feeling the other side of my neck, I found another bite mark.

Great. He'd bitten me again. I suppose I should just be thankful I can't remember it. Steeling myself, I opened the previously closed door.

And found myself face to face with him. I flinched, but only slightly; I was getting used to his suddenness. What was weird was that he looked happy. He smiled at me, and I raised my eyebrows meaningfully. He walked forward, and I stumbled backwards in response, half falling half sitting down on the bed when I felt it behind me. He pulled over a chair from the corner, placing it before me and folding himself into it; he had to be at least as tall as Matt.

Once seated, he stared at me. His eyes were still the amazing red colour; I had a suspicion that it had something to with the fact that he was drinking me. I stared back. Staring matches I could do. Beat a super strong vampire? Not so much. I decided I'd cut to the chase.

'Are we going to bicker over Italy again today?' I asked sweetly. If he'd bitten me recently, I was hopeful that I was currently in the 'can't be harmed' state of safety, until I replenished.

'There's nothing to argue.'

'Fine then. Where are we?'

'Earth.' I had to hand it to him; that was a good answer. He must be learning from me. Making a face, I responded, reasonably confident I would be able to get away with a fair amount today. I guessed my blood made him less strict.

'Why am I covered in bruises?' his smile faded.

'You fell.'

'You dropped me.'

'That is insignificant'

'Why did you?' His expression didn't change as I asked, and he remained silent.

'You expect me to believe that you did it on purpose? Or that you were so surprised you _dropped_ me?' Disbelief coloured my tone. He remained stone like. We sat like that for a while, and I'd given up on getting an answer when he spoke.

'I sensed something strange. Something that shouldn't be there. Or rather, should be there, but wasn't.'

He looked at me intently as he said this.

'You weren't there.' He stated, and I gave him a look. What was he talking about?

'Of I course I was there. You were holding me!'

'Your body was. Your spirit wasn't. Instead, someone else's spirit was in your place.' I raised my eyebrows.

'Ok. That's _totally_ normal. In case you were wondering; I didn't notice anything.' He wasn't paying attention. He was staring past me, obviously deep in thought about my latest supernatural talent. The fact that he was so intrigued unnerved me; I probably would have brushed it off, but he seemed awfully serious.

What if my spirit _had_ temporarily disappeared? Why hadn't I noticed? And what did it mean? Did this have anything to do with the other spirits? And did that relate to my freak out at the warehouse? Or my other breakdowns?

Fighting the urge to slam my head against something and get rid of this perplexing idea, I stood up, feeling the need for activity. He appeared in front of me; apparently he hadn't been absorbed enough to forget about me.

'Going somewhere?'

'Yes,' I replied, moving forwards. He didn't move in response, and I found myself pressed up against him. He reached for me as I jerked backwards, and with a snap I felt the thin chain around my neck break.

It was as if he had suddenly stolen all my energy. My strength rapidly waned, as I began to tremble with the effort of simply remaining upright. Everything seemed to be slightly out of focus, and my breaths were loud in my ears.

Feeling my throat, I glanced sadly at the necklace he was now holding. He, however, was staring at it in amazement. Holding it up to eye level, he examined it, fiercely concentrating.

'The spirits!' I looked at the necklace, then back at him. Surely he didn't mean my necklace had spirits in it? Or on it? Or around it? Or that they had anything to do with it? My brain was a little out of whack, but I was sure that wouldn't have made sense even if I was thinking at full power.

But looking at the small, intricately carved wolf, I wondered. I had already speculated that the two could be connected. But it was wood! It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the real wolves! Sure, it was tribe skill, but not everything had to do with the spirit warriors.

But I couldn't ignore the connection. Everything seemed to kind of fit. He thought I had fast healing. The wolves had fast healing. My neck lace was wolf. He seemed to think spirits were related to it. He also though spirits caused my healing.

And my reaction to its removal seemed to support it. Whilst my mind was sharp, I was barely managing to stand. I was partly hunched over, attempting to dispel the unexpected frailty.

It was a circle of strange and unbelievable supernatural facts. My brother was a wolf, so I guess it wasn't that strange. But part of me bulked that so much supernatural was attributable to me. I had been separate. I had known who and what I was; I was human.

Even though it seemed like the necklace was the cause; it was still me. I had always had the necklace. I wore it at all times. It was sentimental. But whether or not it was magical, I wanted it back. Not just because I had nothing else. But because I half believed that putting it on would actually heal me.

I was just about to open my mouth and ask when my legs suddenly failed me, and I found myself falling forwards.

He caught me of course. He had vampire reflexes, after all. He swept me into his arms, and sat down on the bed, but words continued to elude me. All I could manage to do was feel my neck hopelessly, trying to convey what I hoped would be a solution.

He didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he thought I was just being weird. His hand brushed over my cheek, and the biting chill of his skin shocked me enough to enable me to whisper.

'The necklace.' I wasn't even sure if I had said it out loud. But almost instantly, he produced it seemingly from nowhere. The next moment, he'd put it on me, and it happened almost instantaneously.

It was as if nothing had happened. A surge of strength flowed into me, and I leapt off the bed with energy, standing easily, and staring at the wolf that had restored me.

Glancing at the vampire, I saw he too was staring. I guess he was right.


	28. Explosion

**Chapter 28 - Explosion**

_Quil's POV_

It had been more than a day since Paul had vanished. Our hopes that this had been a temporary thing vanished, to be replaced with worry. Sure Paul could be annoying as hell, but he was our brother.

Despite all our efforts, no one had been able to contact him. We couldn't find him either, which was even more worrying.

Thus the reason we were gathered in wolf form for the meeting. It wasn't the usual upbeat affair, with casual conversation, bickering, and jokes. We were almost silent, each of us dwelling on our own thoughts, though of course I got flashes of what everybody was thinking. Jared was particularly morose; he was good friends with Paul.

Matt wandered in second last, down cast. Despite our assurances, he worried over his sister, who had yet to make an appearance. Though I found it interesting how both Chloe and Paul were missing, I didn't think the former was in danger. She was probably off sleeping somewhere so that Matt couldn't wake her up.

I was yanked from my thoughts by the soft howl of Sam, who had just padded in. Everyone followed his movements with their eyes; such was the power of the alpha.

_You all know why we're here. _He said, and a rumble of confirmation was made in response.

_Paul is supposedly in wolf form, yet for some reason, we cannot hear him. As such, we are also unable to determine his location._

_This is deeply worrying. As you know, Paul was observed to be acting strangely in the days leading up to this. Most concerning is his apparent hallucinations, in which he insisted he could hear a girl screaming._

_What we need to determine is why_. A series of yips and agreements followed.

_I can only hope that the council will be able to assist in finding information that will allow us to help Paul._

_For now, I have a plan to try and contact Paul, though I have doubts on whether it will be effective._ A clamour of interested murmurs were made in response.

_We will all howl in unison to summon him. Hopefully, the wolf will respond, regardless of Paul._

There were several seconds of silence, then Sam howled loudly, and it carried the authority of the alpha. We all howled in response; I doubt we could have resisted if we'd tried.

Evidently, Paul couldn't resist either, as a distant howl responded. There were a series of excited barks at his response, and Jared started circling excitedly.

_Jared, Embry, go after him_. Sam ordered, and they raced off.

_The rest of you, meeting over. We might need to howl every so often to keep track of Paul. Jacob and I will try and find some for information tomorrow from the elders._

With that, we separated, but not before howling again, and getting Paul to howl in return.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

'Where are we?' I asked.

'That's not important.'

'I think it is.'

'It's not.'

'Why not?'

'Because we're leaving.' His hand flashed forwards to take mine, pulling me off the bed.

'Now?' I asked, confused.

Tugging me to the doorway, I resisted, latching on to the door for support. His expression hardened, and I found myself flung over his shoulder as he carried me, suddenly travelling at super speed. I was unexpectedly dumped just seconds later, and I sat up quickly, trying to get my bearings. I was in a car.

And could only mean one thing.

Italy.

I panicked. I lurched away from the open door, towards the other side, fumbling the handle. Swinging it open, I threw myself forwards. Somehow managing to stay on my feet, I ran for it. However, I was unsurprised when only moments later a cold arm was wrapping around my waste. With no apparent effort, he hauled me back to the car.

'You're not going anywhere.' He said coldly, his tone sending shivers down my spine.

'No I'm not!' He paused.

'Did you just agree with me?' He asked uncertainly.

'Yes! I am not going to Italy!' I replied ferociously.

'Yes, you are. But not right now.'

'I won't! -Wait, what?'

'I'm going to Italy. You're staying here.' I felt my expression change to one of puzzlement. He was leaving? Without me? I was so shocked that I forgot that I was currently in the middle of an escape attempt. Once more I found myself in the car, him sliding in next to me.

'Why?'

'I need to meet with someone. Someone who would not appreciate a human present.' I was pretty sure that was code for 'I'm meeting a vampire who would kill you if you came.'

'So what am I doing? I don't suppose you're letting me go?' I asked, with a mix of excitement and doubt.

'No.' Frowning at his vague response, I started assessing my surroundings. Trying the door, I found it locked, and I shot a glare at the vampire. It was with shock that I realised I didn't even know who he was.

'I don't even know your name.' I asked quietly. He froze, and looked at me with a strange expression.

'Giving up on escape, are we?'

'No, I want to remember it so I can curse you.' I said seriously, and he smiled.

'I don't think that'll be very effective.'

'It's not meant to be.' He fell silent, and seemed to be contemplating my request. I had just given up on getting an answer when he replied.

'Demetri.' I turned, startled. I hadn't really expected him to tell me. I'd figured he would hide it just to annoy me. I hadn't heard the name before, and it sounded foreign. I looked at him curiously, suddenly interested in his history.

Where was he from? And how old was he?

He looked at me in return; his eyes were still that startling red. They certainly hadn't been that colour when we'd first met. I wondered briefly whether that had anything to do with me, before I was too disturbed by the whole idea.

I peered forward curiously, trying to get a glimpse at the driver. So far, Demetri had worked alone. I wondered why that had changed. But Demetri held me back, and I slumped backwards, refusing to look at him. Turning to stare out the window instead, I was met with a barely identifiable blur. The ridiculous level of tinting didn't help either. Great. I had no idea where we were, where we were going, or even where we had come from. Even though I was fairly sure asking was pointless, I decided I would ask anyway.

'Where are we going?'

'Italy.' My mouth dropped. I think my heart paused its beating, before it resumed at double speed. Spluttering with shock, I managed to exclaim in response.

'WHAT? But you said we weren't!' The panic was obvious in my voice, and my hands clenched at the door handle in distress.

He simply smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I slapped him away. I couldn't believe I'd fallen for it. I'd trusted the word of a psychotic vampire that was drinking my blood, and keeping me as a blood bank. I was an idiot. I face palmed, cursing my stupidity; I'd lost my only chance of escape!

Before I could continue hitting myself, he pulled my hands away, enclosing them in his much stronger ones. I was now facing him, and there was a glint of a smile on his face.

'Relax. You're not going.' I sat frozen for a second before it sank in. Pulling my hands away, I began flailing them at him, trying to slap him.

'HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!' I screamed intent on punishing him through violence. I can't say I was effective, as I didn't land a single hit, but it was very satisfying.

'YOU COULD HAVE GIVEN ME A HEART ATTACK! AND THEN I'D BE DEAD! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?' I shrieked, tears pouring down my face. To say I was hysterical was an understatement.

Through my rage, I managed to get a look at his reaction. He seemed torn between amusement and shock; more of the latter I think. He didn't strike me as someone who laughed, or was amused, easily. He opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off.

'DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME!' I yelled, my voice hard and distraught. Part of me knew that I was overreacting, but I had too many emotions, and they were asserting themselves.

Once again, he attempted to speak, and again I shrieked before he could say anything.

'I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY! NOT EVEN IF YOU'RE GOING TO TELL ME WHERE WE'RE GOING!'

Sitting rigidly, I gripped the door handle like a life line, seething as I stared determinedly out the window. Tears were flowing faster now, and I fought to keep myself from sobbing and hiccupping in front of him.

'Chloe.' His voice was quiet, gentle. I flinched at his use of my name, forgetting my attempt to ignore him in favour of turning to face him and unleash my hurt.

'NO. YOU DO NOT GET TO CALL ME THAT. HOW DARE YOU ACT AS IF YOU KNOW ME? AS IF WE KNOW EACH OTHER!' I paused for breath, my eyes flashing with anger.

'THERE IS NO _WE_. I DO NOT WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU! BUT _YOU_! YOU WANT ME! YOU'VE DECIDED THAT YOU ARE IMPORTANT AND I'M NOTHING! YOU'VE TAKEN MY _LIFE_!' I gestured furiously, agitated. I paid no attention to what he was doing, caught up in the rant.

'YOU'RE JUST GOING TO USE ME AS A MEAL! AS IF I'M WORTH NOTHING ELSE! YOU'RE USING ME! AND I CAN'T DO A DAMN THING ABOUT IT!' My voice broke at the end, my emotions laid out bare.

'WELL, I CARE! BELIEVE IT OR NOT, I ACTUALLY CARE! I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE! I DON'T WANT TO BE ANYWHERE _NEAR_ YOU! I DEFINITELY DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR HUMAN BLOOD BANK!'

'AND YOU WANT ME TO GO WITH YOU TO ITALY! WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT? I'D RATHER DIE THAN GO WITH YOU!'

'BUT IT'S NOT UP TO ME! I GET NO CHOICE! I HAVE NOTHING! BECAUSE _YOU_ HAVE CHOSEN TO CONTROL ME! AND NOW, YOU OWN ME!'

'YOU HAVE TAKEN MY LIFE! _AND YOU DON'T CARE_!'


	29. Imprisoned

**Chapter 29 - Imprisoned**

'YOU HAVE TAKEN MY LIFE! _AND YOU DON'T CARE_!' The venom in my words was overwhelming. All my energy left in a rush as I suddenly drooped, defeated. Turning into the seat, I slumped against it, unexpectedly weak. Despair flooded me, as I stared gloomily and unseeingly at the grey material pressed against my face. I momentarily glimpsed out the back window a rush of trees that was nought but a green blur.

I was empty. I'd thrown everything I had into my words, and only a shell was left behind. I felt for a moment as if wasn't even there in my own body, but I was soon brought back to reality by the icy touch of Demetri, as he took my hands in his own again.

Still staring into the seat, at first I thought he was just being weirdly intimate, until I heard the forbidding _click_ of something being snapped shut. Almost against my will, I turned my head slightly, peeking out from behind my hair to discover that my hands were once again in handcuffs.

'Oh, come on! Is that really necessary?' I protested, uselessly jangling my hands to confirm that they were, indeed, locked away.

He gave me a look in response, and I fought to keep myself from smiling; I was still angry.

'Fine.' I huffed, wanting to cross my arms in defiance, but deciding it was impossible with the handcuffs on. I decided the silent treatment was in order, though I had doubts on how long I would last.

But hours did pass, the silence between us heavy as I stared resolutely away. I glanced towards him at one point. He was still looking at me, and it still disturbed me, even though he seemed to do it pretty much all the time.

'Is it safe to speak now?' he questioned, smirking. I glared, but remained silent.

'So, what I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted-' I lunged forward in an attempt to strangle him, but he avoided me easily, and sat me back down on the seat, his gaze narrowing, and clearly conveying the unspoken threat of _if you do that again I won't be so forgiving_.

'Is that I won't be gone long, and that you should know that there is no chance of you escaping.' He looked at me intently as he said this, almost daring me to challenge him. But I pressed my lips together firmly, keeping quiet, though I was fairly sure my eyes were saying clearly _that's not going to stop me_.

He looked like he was about to say something else, but his eyes suddenly darted out the front, and he said quietly and formidably, 'We're here.'

I turned curiously to face the window, but all I could see were trees, trees, and more trees. The sky was dark, but it was still day; clouds covered the sky, blocking out the light. Suddenly, he appeared at the window. Opening the door, I shuffled backwards in response, but not fast enough. He hauled me out of the car, standing me up, but grasping my arm to make sure I couldn't get away. He muttered something to the driver in a foreign language, before pushing me around the car towards a wall of trees.

I had to admit, I was getting curious about where he was taking me. By the looks of it, it was going to be really secluded and impossible to escape, yet part of me didn't resist has he directed me through the trees. We only walked far enough o be well out of sight of the car, but it was more than far enough to get me lost. I didn't have time to dwell on this though, as he whisked me up into his arms, and we were suddenly flying.

Well, not flying. But it sure felt like it. I fought to keep my eyes open as trees whizzed past at speeds I hadn't thought possible. It was dizzying, and in the end I decided I'd rather not have a headache than know where we were headed. It's not like it would help me anyway.

We got wherever we were going quickly, and we stopped so suddenly that I felt my stomach lurch as it tried to keep going. Opening my eyes as he walked forwards, I saw that we were headed for a small wooden cabin, expertly hidden in the trees. I didn't know what I was expecting, but somehow this didn't fit. It looked too normal, and actually somewhat inviting.

That was until we got inside. It was almost bare of furniture, and very little daylight shined in. The cabin had no other source of illumination, and dust covered everything and coated the air. It was cold too, contributing the overall atmosphere of gloom. But what really got me was the back wall.

I felt my mouth drop as it came into view, air whooshing out in a rush, before gasping back in. He approached slowly, and I frantically started struggling, as panic seized me. It was pointless of course; as if I could beat the strength of a vampire. But that knowledge didn't stop me from fighting.

I couldn't take my eyes off the chains. Inset into the wall, they were numerous, and very formidable looking. But above all, the thing that terrified me the most was knowing that once I was shackled, I would never again have a chance to escape.

That thought drove me as he temporarily released me, and I desperately lunged away, only to find myself yanked violently backwards by a steel bar around my waist. Of course, it wasn't actually a steel bar, it was Demetri's arm, but it might as well have been. I whimpered as he pulled me, seconds from deciding to screw silence and start screaming.

As he reached for one of the manacles, that time came.

'No. Please don't!' Struggling to hold me still with one hand, and fasten the shackle with the other, I continued squirming and flailing. I was sobbing too, desperate cries that wracked my body as terror overwhelmed me.

As I heard the forbidding _snick_, and felt the cold hard metal clasp around my wrist, I let out a terrifying shriek.

'**NO!**'

It was as if I was shattering. I heard myself scream from a distance, at a loss for what to do. I had lost all my chances of escape. The utter hopelessness that swept through me was a wave of power, and I released my despair through my screams.

I yanked fiercely on the chain, attempting to pull away, but to no avail. But that didn't stop me fighting as he locked away my other wrist, still screaming. Again and again I screamed, my emotions so raw I felt as if I was living in a dream. More of a nightmare, really. And every time I felt another shackle snap shut, the despair washed over me afresh. How I was still on my feet amazed me, as internally I was crumbling. But I would stand. I would fight.

Even if it did nothing. It seemed like an eternity, but it must have been only minutes. I came back to my senses, still burning inside, but quiet now, subdued. I was dismayed to discover that not only were both wrists and both ankles manacled, and connected to chains which were imbedded in the wall, but that another chain was wrapped around my waist, again inset into the wall.

It was a horrific trap. The chains were barely long enough to allow me to lay on the floor, which I promptly did, shock causing me to slowly crumble as I stared despairingly at my prison. I moaned in dismay, despair causing me to sound primal as I mourned the beginning of the end.

Sure, it was a tad dramatic, but I felt that I was entitled. I felt as if I'd lost something; a vital piece of me, a part that had maintained its optimism and believed that escape was near. And that part had just been destroyed. I was crushed by its destruction, and it echoed physically.

Bitterness surged through me towards Demetri, for squashing that part, and punishing me in this way. I manoeuvred into a sitting position, the clinking of the chains every time I moved causing me to thrash in irritation.

'Are you happy now?' I asked, my voice hoarse. He had sat down to watch me, and seemed disturbingly entertained.

'Yes.' He replied, and I gave him a look of the deepest loathing.

'I am certain that this will ensure you remain here until I return.' I continued glaring, but he seemed unaffected.

'I would advise you not to try escape. You may not have notice that those manacles,' he gestured at them, 'have no key hole.'

'There is no key. There is only me to release you.' I frowned, my eyes narrowing.

'Also, rest assured that nobody will be passing anywhere near this place. Thus yelling for help is pointless,' he looked at me intently and with amusement as he finished, 'though I doubt that will stop you.'

I gave him a slightly different look, though one no less angry, that said _you've got that right._

'I will be back in less than 24 hours.' He said firmly, standing slowly and dusting himself off.

'Don't hurry back.' I said venomously, managing, with much clinking, to cross my arms defiantly. He gave me an evil look, and I gave him one back.

He turned to leave, but paused, and pivoting back around to face me, he had a dangerous smile on his face. My heart leapt in my chest, abruptly increasing its pace, and I felt my glare rapidly fade as my eyes betrayed the fear that had so suddenly bloomed within me.

'I've just remembered something,' he said almost cheerfully, his tone telling me that he had, in fact, not forgotten, but was simply teasing me. I was fairly sure what he was alluding to, and almost without permission my hand crept up to my neck, feeling the curved scar that was the mark of his bite.

His eyes followed my movements, and his smile widened. My heart was in my throat. I remembered the first bite; it had been torturous. I feared another above all else. He took a step forward, and I scrambled backwards, struggling with the chains that surrounded me.

Instantly he was in front of me, crouching predatorily. I screamed, somehow managing to move far enough to press myself against the wall. His hand whipped forwards, snagging my left arm and holding my hand up to his nose so that he could breathe it in. I whimpered, trembling in expectation of what was about to come. My breaths weren't fast enough, and my panting took on a hysterical quality as I cowered, eyes swimming with unshed tears.

I was pulling with all my might, but compared to his strength, it was nothing. I couldn't bear to look, and as his teeth grazed my arm, I screamed, a bloodcurdling scream that radiated pain as his teeth sank into me. Again and again I screamed, the pain so intense I could think of nothing else. It was fire and ice, both burning through me; both burning, instead of cancelling out. It felt like an eternity of misery, of torture, but eventually, the pain blissfully began to fade. I was limp once more, not unconscious, but too weak to move.

I felt his frosty touch as his finger stroked my cheek, and I knew he was unaware I was still conscious. I would have slapped him away, but I couldn't feel my limbs, and was instead forced to endure his attention. How dare he touch me after biting me! I was repulsed, still horrified and fearful from the torture that was his bliss.

Thankfully, he didn't linger, and without a sound he was gone, the only tell the whoosh of wind that blew through the room when he opened the door.


	30. Found

**Chapter 30 - Found**

I wished I was unconscious. It would have been a mercy. But no. Instead, I was stuck awake, my mind free, but body not moving. I seemed to spend all my time weak lately, and it grated. I opened my eyes, staring at the room around me. I was still slumped against the wall, and my many shackles were in plain sight.

I didn't want to look at them. Just the sight of them was an unneeded and unpleasant reminder of just how bleak my future was. Tears began flowing now I was alone. I managed to slide awkwardly down the wall until I was on my back, the chains now mercifully out of sight. Yet that small movement had taken so much energy, and moving my arm had caused it to twinge, eliciting a small yelp of pain.

It was too much. It amazed me that I still had tears left, but I did, and they came flowing, fast now, as I opened myself up to the pain. I wailed, lamenting my future. I was going to suffer the agony of being bitten everyday! That thought was more than enough to cause me to burst into tears.

But then there were the chains. I loathed them. I liked freedom, and they were the opposite. They were imprisoning, and the feeling was terrible. It reinforced just how much Demetri now controlled me, and how little hope there was of escape.

And so I mourned for the life I had lost, hurt washing over me in suffocating waves, as I lay there, alone, having finally given up.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

Night had passed in a blur. The wolf had not even considered sleep as an option, but I certainly thought it sounded good. After hours and hours of endless trees and running, I was exhausted. But it wasn't until well after the moon had risen to its peak, and begun its decent, that I eventually collapsed from exhaustion.

It was a fitful sleep, full of confused feelings. I'd get sudden bursts of terror and fear, or rages of anger, and not know why. The emotions overwhelmed me, and I drowned in them, before they disappeared as abruptly as they came. I dreamt of the pack too; I could hear their howls, and I howled in return.

What woke me though was a scream. I didn't know how a sound could be painful, but it was. Leaping to my feet, I winced as yet another scream pierced the air. The wolf in me growled in anger, and with a flurry of motion I was off, once more trampling through the forest.

I was once more possessed with the urge to stop the sound, to find the cause of the sound. It filled me up so that I could think of nothing else.

Finding it was all that mattered.

* * *

Hours passed, and I was still running, flying through the forest at incredible speed. The scenery barely changed. Thankfully the screams had stopped, but still I was consumed with purpose. Night had fallen, yet I continued, fixated.

Then all of a sudden, I heard something else. Something out of place. Cocking my head to the side, I identified it. A beating heart. And not the small heart of creature in the forest; a human. Strangely, I couldn't smell it.

Cautious, and curious, I growled, feeling that somehow, this was what I was here for. I trod forwards slowly, following the sound.

Just as I thought I could hear breathing, I smelt it. It burnt my nose, like fire being poured through my system, and it was with mingled horror and shock I realised what it was.

Vampire. I growled angrily, clawing at the ground. Moving faster now, and on alert, followed the vampire trail, my brain piecing together a situation that seemed so very likely given our location. Hell, I didn't know where I was, but there shouldn't be anybody out here. I could come up with only one conclusion, and that fact that both beating heart and trail led in the same direction only supported the idea.

Though it was dark, the moon hidden, I could see clearly, eyes peeled for the first sight of leech. I was racing now; all too aware of what I was likely to find when I reached wherever I was going.

As I burst out from between two trees, and glimpsed a wooden cabin, I howled, sprinting forwards, half terrified of what I was to find, half relieved that the confusion was going to finally be over.

I crashed into the door, crushing it to pieces, tensed for a fight, growling loudly, and snapping. But there was no vampire. Temporarily confused, I took in my surroundings. It was dark, but I could make out the vague form a body at the end of the room. I had to keep reassuring myself that they were alive, that I could hear their heart beat, that I was not going to discover a dead and mangled body, but part of me still hesitant to approach the end of the room.

I padded forwards, still wary, but fairly sure the vampire had long since left. The stench would be stronger if they were still here. I paused as the body came into view, not sure at first what the metal chains were doing all around the body. But it soon became evident that they had a function, and by following one, I saw with horror that the body was imprisoned, manacled and chained to the wall.

But while I wondered why the hell a vampire would need a human prisoner, my eyes fell on the outstretched arm, and the crescent shaped bite mark that it bore. I whined, confused as to why a vampire would leave a victim alive, and hating the vampire for what they had done. Approaching, I saw the victim to be a girl, hair spread fan-like around her, face in shadow.

Growling with anger, I contemplated the best way to get her out. It would be easier as a human, but I had more strength as a wolf. Deciding I'd rip off the chains, and open the shackles later, I snarled, clawing at the metal, trying tear it. It was difficult with claws instead of hands, and I had to tread carefully around her, but eventually I managed it. I'd just ripped apart the last chain, when I looked once more at the girl, and recognition slammed into me.

It was as if someone had suddenly run over me with a truck. I collapsed, howling mournfully, staring unbelievably. It couldn't be true. Pain flooded through me, and I felt as if I were the one that had been bitten. I clawed at the ground, gouging into the floorboards, still howling. I didn't know why I was filled such a horrible despair, why hurt was searing through me. All I could see was her.

Chloe.

Seeing her sucked away my strength, made me feel so insignificant, less important than a speck of dust. She was everything. And she was hurt.

It was some strange form of torture. Every detail I took in; blank, staring eyes, the bruises on her arms, and above all the bite. With every ailment and injury I identified, I felt as if I was being pulverized by a sledge hammer. As if I deserved to be punished for letting such a thing happen.

I should have been there. I should have stopped it. I should have saved her. I probably would have continued my spiral of blame and depression if not for her. Her head turned, her eyes moved, and she looked at me.

There was something missing in her eyes. Something that had been there, but now wasn't. Something good, lively, hopeful. I was about to return to my misery, when she spoke. It was barely a whisper, but I heard it, and it snapped me right out of the despair that was drowning me.

'It's a wolf,' she muttered, sounding detached. 'One of the pack? No. That would mean I was saved. I am not saved. I will never be saved.'

What? My jaw dropped. This sounded nothing like her. It was so morbid. So lifeless. So resigned. It also sounded a tad crazy. What had happened to break her? Whatever it had been, it was my fault. All my fault. No. I mustn't. I must fix this. I will fix this. I will save her.

I will save her.

It was all that kept me going. Somewhat disjointedly I realised that my reaction was proof of what I had been denying for days; I had imprinted. But that wasn't important. My imprint was in danger, and I was going to save her.

Pulling myself together, I slipped outside to phase, before racing in again. Kneeling beside her, I took her hand to drape her arm over my shoulder, but the instant I touched her, she reacted.

A terrible scream ripped through the air, the sound painful to my ears. I pulled away instantly, part wary, part horrified.

'Don't touch me! Not again. Not again.' At first she yelled, but it petered out into the same detached muttering as before. Rage surged through me, the urge to protect asserting itself. But I didn't have time to get angry right now.

I needed to save her.

'Chloe?' I asked, unsure of what I was actually hoping to accomplish.

'I thought I told you not to use my name? Yes, I did. At least I think I did.' She responded, still muttering, apparently to herself.

'We need to leave, so I can get you somewhere safe.' I said cautiously, not knowing what response I would get.

'Leave. No. I won't leave. I won't go there! You said I had 24 hours!' It took a while for my words to sink in, but once they did, she reacted violently. By the end she was shrieking, wailing, tears running down her face.

The wolf inside was yelling at me to drop everything and calm her down, but I had just grasped what she had said.

24 hours.

They were coming back.

Gritting my teeth at the thought of what I was about to do, but knowing it was necessary, I wrapped her arm around my neck and scooped her up.

She screamed, sobbing, crying for me to let her go. It was torturous, denying her, my imprint, what she wanted, especially when she was so clearly distressed, but I knew that unless we got away, and fast, she would not be safe. So while I began running back the way I had come, with her in my arms, she continued struggling, whacking me and screeching.

But despite all this, I couldn't help but be proud that she was putting up a fight. Even though she knew she was fighting a supernatural creature, which she couldn't hope to beat, she fought.

It was while she was trying to escape my hold, hair flying madly around her, that I saw them.

The other bite marks.

It stopped me right in my tracks, my body shaking with anger. Hatred for the vampire that had done this was surging through me, as I stared with horror at the scars, one each side of her neck. He had marked her. He had touched her. He had hurt her. He had bit her. I had let her be hurt by the enemy.

He would pay.

I couldn't do anything but stare mortified at the bites, watching them as they sat there, a mark of what I had let happen to my imprint. I had failed. We were supposed to protect from the vampires, and I had failed. The weight of the knowledge was painful and crushing, and so I stood there frozen, consumed by the pain of knowing I had failed her.

There was no greater sin. I watched her, mesmerized, wondering how I could ever be forgiven for allowing her to be hurt. I watched as she walked a few paces away from me, staring at what was apparently a tree with avid fascination. And I watched as she stumbled, unsteady, not yet recovered from her ordeal.

It was the final straw. With a loud growl I phased, the anger, guilt and pain pushing me over the edge. I let at a terrible howl, one that expressed my misery. Part of me was freaking out about how close I was to Chloe, but I saw that she was perfectly fine, happily walking around the same tree, now talking to it.

The sight of her so clearly ill enraged me. My fault. All my fault. Should have been there. Should have saved her. These thoughts consumed me as I padded in circles, trying, in vain, to get my anger out. But I could think of only one thing.

I should have saved her.


	31. Hallucinations

**Chapter 31 - Hallucinations**

_Chloe's POV_

I wasn't quite sure when I finally fell silent. Nothing was really making sense anymore, so I guess it was unsurprising that my mind gave in. Combine that with the fact that my body was in lockdown, and I found myself in a bizarre state of nothingness.

I felt as I was floating; a puffy white cloud casually drifting across the sky. My many worries were just tiny dark spots, and my mind was determined to repress them, blissfully falling into complete denial.

At one point a wolf appeared in the room with me. It was strange and unexpected, and I was whole heartedly convinced that it was a hallucination. And when the wolf soon vanished, I returned to my daze, actually somewhat content as I simply stared.

Something touched my hand. I jerked into awareness immediately, fear at the forefront of my mind, instantly terrified of Demetri's return. But the touch vanished instantly, and my mind forcefully evicted me once more, as my problems once again disappeared.

I thought I heard a voice sometime later; I couldn't really judge time in my form of limbo. He said my name, and I promptly expressed my distaste before zoning out. He spoke again, and I heard something about leaving.

I was once more brought back to reality in a wave of horror, my emotions pouring out of me. I shrieked my objection, reasoning that it couldn't possibly be time yet; a small part of me also remained determined not to go at all, despite my surrender.

Belatedly I realised that I had in fact been lifted, and I thrashed, fighting for escape. But he remained my captor, and while terror flooded through me at the thought of going, my mind had repressed itself so much that I no longer knew why.

But some unquenchable part of me rebelled and feared this man who was carrying me, and so without any reason, I continued fighting.

As time passed, and the man's warm skin brought warmth to me for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I began to question why I was struggling. I couldn't remember why I was scared of the man who had put me in the cabin. He hadn't done anything bad to me that I knew of.

So should I be fighting? Was he actually a good guy? I didn't know.

It was then that I spied my brother Matt standing a few feet away. I got to my feet, sliding easily from the arms that had held me, attempting to rush over to him. But I stumbled and almost fell, unsteady and barely able to remain standing. Somehow making it over to him, I began chatting animatedly.

But he was strangely silent.

'So, this guy,' I gestured behind me, 'is he a good guy or bad guy? Because I really can't tell.' I began circling him as I talked, but Matt didn't reply.

'I get the feeling there was a reason I didn't want him to get me. But I can't remember. Does that mean I should just trust him?'

Still no response. I glanced back to where the man had stood, but he was gone. There was, however, a wolf not far away, apparently in distress. I turned back to Matt.

'Don't worry. I know it's just a hallucination. I saw the same wolf back in the cabin.' Giving him a hug goodbye, and finding him to be surprisingly cylindrical, I started wandering around, trying to find the man. Unfortunately, I was still unsteady, and I soon found myself tripping, and with an exclamation, I fell backwards.

As I pushed myself into a sitting position, Paul suddenly appeared next to me. I couldn't figure out where he had come from.

'Paul. Where did you come from? Have you seen another guy around here somewhere? Some random was carrying me and I need to find them.' I wasn't quite sure, but I thought he gave me a weird look; he seemed confused.

'If you're looking for Matt, he's just over there.' I gestured to him. Paul was quiet for a minute, apparently deep in thought, before replying.

'I'm looking for you actually. We need to get home.'

'Me? Get home?' I didn't know what he was talking about.

'I can't go home.' I said.

'Why not?' Paul asked curiously.

'I don't know.' I replied, bewildered.

* * *

_Quil's POV_

'Can I tell story, Quil?' Claire asked me, and I melted at the sound of her voice.

'Of course you can, Claire-bear.' I replied, sitting her on the couch in front of me, so that we were facing, while I was on the floor.

'There was two princesses, Cwaire and Chwoe. And they had lots of fun together.' She started talking as I smiled at her, encouraging her to continue.

'They chased Pwince Quil all day.' She giggled at this, and I grinned in response, certain that this was something Chloe had made up with her.

'One day, pwincess Chwoe went away. She was chasing an evil white bunny, with red eyes.' Claire was clearly enjoying the story, and I listened closely, making exaggerated sound affects in response.

'The bunny was evil cuz it didn't let people eat choccy. It wanted all the choccy for itself.'

'But the bunny was smart. The bunny twicked Chwoe with gummy bears.' I gasped loudly.

'Chwoe was stuck with the bunny. And she was stuck for aaaaaages.'

'Until pwincess Cwaire saved her with Quil, and his pwince friends, jay and emby.'

'And evwybody was happy. The end.' She finished dramatically, and I applauded loudly, much to her happiness.

'Where is Chwoe?' She then asked seriously, looking around for her.

'I don't know.' I replied. It had been hours since Embry and Jared had gone off, and still no sign of Paul. And no sign of Chloe.

'Maybe she needs pwince Quil to rescue her?' She asked, and I was about to make a joking answer, when I suddenly had a thought. With a sense of urgency, I asked Claire a question.

'Who was the evil guy again, Claire?' I had a horrible feeling in the bottom of my stomach. But surely she would have told one of us? She would have, right?

'The white bunny! With wed eyes!' She exclaimed excitedly, oblivious to the terrible idea that had just popped into my head. Because while an evil white bunny with red eyes was simply a character to her, it meant so much more to me.

It was pretty much the description of a vampire. White skin. And red eyes.

And though I sincerely hoped I was just paranoid, it seemed to me like Chloe had told Claire, who had then told me, that Chloe had been kidnapped by a vampire. Only this story wouldn't end with 'and everybody was happy.'

* * *

_Embry's POV_

_My fault. All my fault. Should have been there. Should have saved her._

A sudden torrent of thought and emotion flowed into my mind, as a terrible howl echoed through the trees.

_Is that Paul?_ I asked, surprised. Jared barked excitedly.

_Paul? Where are you? Where have you been?_ Jared asked, but there was no response.

Unexpectedly, images came pouring in, like a disjointed slide show. I saw a dark room, then a chained body, and then an arm that bore what was unmistakably a bite mark. We both howled in response to the last image.

Vampire.

Jared and I increased our pace, still heading towards Paul. It looked like this disappearance was more than it seemed; clearly, other supernatural creatures were involved. The pack needed to know.

_Brady? _Jared asked.

_What's up guys?_ He responded.

_Did you just hear that from Paul?_ I asked.

_Paul? You heard him?_ He replied, surprised. So he hadn't heard it. This just kept getting weirder and weirder.

_Sort of. But we lost him. Get Sam will you?_ Jared said, and Brady agreed, phasing.

_You know who Paul sounded like just then? _I said, a strange idea forming in my head.

_Who?_

_Quil. That time that Claire tripped over._ Jared thought for a moment, before agreeing.

_Huh. You don't mean you think Paul…?_ He responded, disbelief clear in his tone.

_I don't know, man. But it sure as hell looks like it._

_But Paul? Imprint? That's impossible. And on the off chance that it is possible, who on earth has he imprinted on?_

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

Paul managed to convince me we should go home. Since I couldn't remember why I didn't want to go, he had a relatively easy time of it. It was harder for him to convince me that he had to carry me home. I was not some ditsy girl who couldn't stand to walk on her own feet. But since I couldn't walk more than 10 feet without stumbling, I eventually gave in.

And so I found myself carried by Paul as he ran through the forest. It was kind of nice actually. He was so very nice and warm, and seemed content to let me be. I was lulled into a sense of safety and peace, and found myself talking to him openly, instead of the usual arguing and banter.

Snuggling into his chest, I breathed him in.

'You smell nice,' I said, though I was unable to identify what exactly he smelled like. He laughed in response, and I smiled into his chest.

'I think this is the first time we've actually had a normal conversation.' My voice was muffled by his chest, but he still heard me. He was shirtless, as per usual, making it weirdly intimate. But as part of me wasn't quite sure if he was real, this didn't faze me.

'Why is that?' I asked.

'You don't like me.' He replied, somewhat sadly.

'I don't?' I replied, surprised. He looked down at me, also surprised.

'I got the impression you didn't like me.'

'No, I like you. You're weird. Sometimes too weird. Sometimes too angry. But fun to fight with.' The words spilled out of me in a rush, and I wasn't quite sure what I was saying. My brain was disconnected completely now. My head resting on his shoulder, I watched his chest move with his breaths, mesmerized.

'But you don't like me.' I said quietly, and somewhat sadly, though I didn't know why I was sad. He was silent, which I took for confirmation.

'No.'

'I never know what people mean when they reply to a statement with 'no'. Is it a 'no, I don't like you,' or 'no, I actually do like you.'?' He sighed at my response, shaking his head and smiling.

'What?' I asked. 'Why are you smiling?'

'Because I do like you.'

'You do? Are you sure?' I asked, incredulous. Though I was the one that said it, I didn't know why I'd questioned his certainty. There must have been a reason, but I couldn't remember. He laughed at my reply, and it made me smile.

'Yes, I am.' I was unexpectedly happy at this, but I still didn't fully believe he was telling the truth.

'Well, I'll check in 24 hours and see if you still think that. Then I'll… believe… you.' I started off perfectly normal, but suddenly I trailed off, my voice fading to a whisper.

My mouth was shaping words, but my voice had left me. I was trembling, fear abruptly filling me. Eventually I managed to whisper the words had suddenly changed everything.

'24 hours.' Frantically I glanced upwards, trying to judge the time. It was darkening, meaning that the day was ending. Which meant 24 hours had almost certainly already passed.

The wall I had subconsciously built in my denial came crumbling down, my fears a terrible tsunami that instantly submerged me. I found myself gasping for breath, as if I really was being drowned. My cheeks already bore the traces of tears, as they started running down my face, as my emotion rose to surface.

It was then that I realised somebody was holding me.


	32. Rage

**Chapter 32 - Rage**

It was then that I realised somebody was holding me.

I screamed, thrashing about, any semblance of reason long gone. I was so consumed with terror that I didn't even notice that the man who was holding me had warm skin, as opposed to the icy cold skin I feared.

I was startled when they released me, and I found myself stumbling forwards, catching myself of a tree. Looking around desperately, trying to stop my panting breaths from becoming hyperventilation, I saw no flash of white, no tall figure.

It wasn't much of a comfort. I knew he was coming. He would be here. He would be angry. I quailed at the very thought of his reaction. Whimpering and shuddering, I turned around, and let out a small shriek at the sight of a tall figure. But as I stared, I saw that this man had tanned skin, and with a start, recognition struck me.

'Paul?' My voice was hoarse, and I felt my eyes widen in surprise. What was he doing here? How had he found me? Frozen to the spot, I stared open mouthed as he approached me. Still trembling, I didn't know how to react when he came up to me, and wiped the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs.

'Chloe. I need you to stay calm.' Easier said than done. But I felt strangely assured by his words, comforted by his presence.

'I need you tell me what's wrong.' His voice was slow and soothing, but it had an edge of urgency. I shook my head in response, my eyes darting around, alert for any movement. He took my face in his hands, and so great was the fear inside me that I didn't object to his touch. My eyes were frozen in their widened position, mostly from my distress, but partly from the sudden intimacy between us.

'Please tell me.' Our eyes met, and for a second I felt slightly calmer, before returning to my panic. My voice had gone, so even as I tried to speak, there was nothing but my heaving breaths. Somehow, though, I managed to breathe the words.

'He's coming.' Distress was evident in my tone, and as the panic built, I edged closer to a full out break down. But I managed to whisper one last plead.

'Help me.'

_Crack!_

The snap of the branch echoed around, and with my lips firmly shut to prevent myself from screaming, I spun to face the source of the sound.

He was here.

If there hadn't been a tree behind me, I would have fallen to the ground. As it was, I stumbled backwards, clutching onto the tree for support. The sight of him was crippling, the last vestiges of denial instantly disappearing, as I was overcome with terror. All my memories came converging in; hallucinations combining with reality, so that all that was left was a jumbled mess, so that I had no idea what had actually happened.

And his face. I'd thought I'd seen the worst of him. But I was so wrong. This was the worst; his expression so deadly, so merciless, so cruel. It was no surprise that I quailed under his gaze; his punishing glare stealing my breath, leaving me gasping, choking, whimpering. It was as if he had sucked the strength from me.

As he had done many times before. His eyes were not the luminous, vibrant red they had been before, but were the darker crimson I had been told was the mark of vampire. And they stared at me, at my bared neck, with such hunger. It was petrifying.

Frozen in position, seconds away from collapsing, I remembered why I had given up in that cabin. What little hope that had remained had asserted itself in his absence, but now that disintegrated, the despair once again enveloping me. I was so close, so close to surrender, when a voice spoke through the darkness. Seconds away from submission, I hung onto the voice, foolishly feeling hope at the sound of it.

'You did this to her.' I had never heard Paul speak like this before. It was beyond anger, beyond rage. Demetri's face remained terrifying, and his voice was chilling as he replied.

'Yes. It was very gratifying.' Paul was shaking violently now, barely a metre away from me. The small part of my brain that was functioning was screaming at me to run like hell away from here, but I was paralysed. Until Paul's voice cut through the hysteria that had overtaken me.

'Chloe. Run.' I stared at him for a moment before comprehension dawned. Ever so slowly, I remembered how to use my legs, and just as I began to stagger away, Demetri spoke again.

'You should have heard her screams as she fought; they made it all the sweeter.'

I threw myself to the ground, away from Paul, as a terrible howl reverberated around. Scrambling to my feet, and cringing at the sounds of fury and fighting that resounded behind me, I started running.

I didn't know where I was going. I didn't think there was really much point going anywhere; as if Demetri wouldn't find me if he couldn't see me. But Paul had told me too, and so I would. I didn't know why I listened to Paul; a few days ago I probably would have ignored his advice - even if it was good advice - just because he was the one who said it. But nether-the-less, for some mysterious reason, I was doing as instructed, and running for my life.

It could have been 10 seconds. Maybe 10 minutes. I didn't think it was 10 hours. All I knew was that I was sprinting through the forest like my life depended on it; which it did. The sound of Paul and Demetri had long since faded into the background. All I could hear were my rasping breaths, and the fast-paced thumps of my heart.

After a time – I had already decided it was probably closest to 10 minutes, though of course it felt longer – I heard another sound. There was something there. Or not. There was a high chance I was just hallucinating; after all, I'd been sure Demetri was secretly following for ages, and yet he hadn't appeared. But I was pretty sure that if something was there, it was something sinister. Dangerous. Deadly.

I kept running though, and nothing appeared. Not that that was reassuring. Demetri would definitely be the type to scare me like that. Paul was probably also the type, but I hoped he'd have the decency to realise now was not the time.

Without warning, a howl tore through the trees, and I skidded to stop to turn and face the source. I knew it was stupid to follow it, but I did anyway. Steeping cautiously through the trees, I headed in the direction of the sound. While I had no proof that it was Paul, I couldn't help but feel that it was him I had heard, and I was drawn to find him. I had long since given up on questioning anything that strange that happened around me; it was easier and safer not to know.

Rounding a particularly large tree, I was startled to see Paul standing just a few feet away, his back to me. I wasn't sure why I was surprised, since I'd been hoping to find him, and I'd had a feeling he was around here somewhere, but still; I had more than enough reason to be jumpy. Recovering from my initial shock, his name escaped my lips, almost without me making the decision to say it.

'Paul.' It sounded kind of strangled, as my throat closed with emotion, but he heard it. Only now did I let myself concede to my fears; fears for Paul, fears for me, and fear of Demetri. I started sobbing as he turned at my voice, and I threw myself forwards, into his arms.

I think I was muttering; I wasn't quite sure. All I knew was that I needed him. He caught me as I launched myself at him, and I buried myself in his chest, not knowing why I was hugging him, but not questioning it. It felt right.

His arms wrapped around me, providing me with the security and comfort I so desperately needed. He was warm, so warm, and I needed that warmth like nothing else. Still I cried, my tears falling onto his chest, but he didn't seem to mind. We just stood there, because I needed him, and hopefully, he needed me too.

While we seemed to be in a bubble, safe from the world, I knew we weren't. I was very aware that Demetri was still out there, somewhere, most probably looking for me.

'Are you hurt?' Paul's voice cut through my musings, and I looked up at him, seeing the worried expression that I probably also wore.

'No. You?'

'Fine.' He seemed comforted at my response, but by no means was he complacent. His eyes, like mine, were jumping around in their sockets, alert for any sign of danger. In my current position, I could barely see anything, and it was nagging at me. Regretfully, I pulled back slightly, turning around, but still maintaining contact. I was filled with reluctance at the thought of leaving the circle of his arms.

It was then that I started wondering when exactly we'd gone from constantly fighting to this strange intimacy.

But my thoughts on that were instantly dispelled by an unexpected sound; a wolf howl. And it wasn't Paul. He stared transfixed in the direction it had come from, and seemed to unconsciously move towards it, his arms releasing me as he moved. I was just about to ask about the howl when a cold hand suddenly clapped over my mouth, silencing me, while an arm wrapped around my waist, lifting me.

In a flash I was pulled backwards, but we moved only a short distance; only about 10 metres. The perfect distance so that Paul could still easily see us, but far enough that we were out of his reach. I thrashed wildly, but Demetri had practice, and knew exactly how to make sure I couldn't escape. I tried to scream through his hand, but it was so muffled it was barely audible. I would have continued resisting though, despite the fact it was pointless, if not for the words he whispered in my ear.

'Unless you want me to bite you right now, you'll stay still and keep quiet.'

All of this took place in a matter of seconds, so that in the time it took for Paul to turn around and discover I had vanished, Demetri was holding me, and I was being obedient as he had demanded. For what felt like the thousandth time, he had me trapped. His voice never lost its chilling, deadly sound, no matter how many times I heard it, and it still terrified me. But not as much as what he was threatening to do.

Paul's expression when he saw who had me was deadly. He was seething with anger, his whole body shaking. But he couldn't help me, not with Demetri using me as a shield. I tried to communicate with my eyes that I'd rather him attack me than have to go with the vampire, but it was difficult, and either way, Paul remained where he was.

'Let her go.' Paul sounded as if he was seconds away from shouting, and I thought I heard a growl at the end, showing how close he was to phasing.

'No, I don't think I will.' Demetri's voice had a gleeful edge; he was enjoying this. Paul growled in response, but Demetri only tightened his hold, and I whimpered. Though I couldn't make a sound, Paul could tell I was in pain, and I saw his already clenched fists tighten in response.

I wondered what had changed in Demetri. Up until now he had treated me as _not to be harmed_; except when he was biting me. But apparently he'd decided I either wasn't as valuable or wasn't as fragile as he'd first thought. Wonderful.

'I hope you enjoyed your time together. Because you won't be seeing her again.'


	33. Punished

**Chapter 33 - Punished**

_Quil's POV_

I tried to convince myself that my feeling was wrong. Surely Chloe wasn't that stupid. She wouldn't have hidden something this important. Would she?

The nagging worry was eating at my stomach, even hours later when I returned home. She'd always seemed to border the line between quirky and insane, but through all that, I'd been sure she had a decent brain on her shoulders for the serious side of life.

But above all, the thing I couldn't figure out was why she wouldn't tell us, if my crazy guess was correct. Collapsing onto bed, I stared blankly at the ceiling, mulling it over. She knew we could handle a vampire. We could keep her safe, we could protect her. Hell, Matt would do anything for her. He'd probably lock her away in a missile proof room just to be sure she was safe.

At that, my thoughts came to a crashing halt.

I face palmed, closing my eyes and groaning. It made sense. She'd hate being locked away. And that would be the first thing Matt would do.

Which meant she wouldn't have told us. My eyes flew open at the realisation, and it was then that I noticed something taped to ceiling.

Clambering to my feet in a rush, I tore off the piece of paper, and speedily read the note on one side.

_Hi Quil,_

_I hope you get better at bullshit soon otherwise you're gonna lose all your money._

_Make sure you let Claire play with your hair._

_Chloe :)_

It was all the proof I needed. Resisting the urge to punch something, I leapt out the window, and started running.

If she survived this, I was going to strangle her.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

'I hope you enjoyed your time together. Because you won't be seeing her again.'

And with that depressing parting comment, which Demetri delivered quite sinisterly, and with amusement, we were gone. The wind was rushing past us at incredible speed, and I had to close my eyes to stop my head from spinning. A desperate howl resounded through the forest, which was echoed and repeated by other wolves, the mournful sound impressing upon me just how doomed I really was.

Standing in Paul's arms, I had come close, so close, to thinking that there might be a way out. Thankfully, I hadn't believed, because now I didn't have to repeat the dreadful process of giving up again. But still, I despaired, because while I knew there was no escape, I desperately wanted one. But nothing, not even the knowledge that the rest of the pack was here could change my mind.

For once, the journey passed quickly. Unexpectedly, I found myself in the same cabin as before. I wasn't sure where I'd been thinking we'd go, but for some reason, I hadn't thought we'd be back here.

I certainly hadn't expected what happened next.

He released me once we were inside, and I somehow managed to stay on my feet. Even when I wasn't weak from blood loss, there was something about him that drew the strength from me. Perhaps it was the fear he generated within me, or the sense of power and danger he oozed. Whatever it was, I didn't like it.

Catching myself on a wall as I staggered, I spun to face him. But he was already there, pinning me to the wall, one hand around my throat. Holding me at his eye height, my feet couldn't touch the floor, and I spluttered, gasping desperately for air.

'HOW DARE YOU TRY TO ESCAPE?!' He roared, and I saw in his eyes an anger which I had never seen before. His hand was crushing my wind pipe, and I whimpered, my hands scrabbling futilely at his unbreakable grip.

'DID YOU THINK I WOULDN'T FIND YOU? DID YOU THINK I WOULD LET YOU GO?' He released me abruptly, and with a huge gasp I dropped, hitting the floor hard.

'DID YOU THINK YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH IT? I MAY NEED YOU ALIVE, BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN UNHARMED.' Gasping wildly as air rushed into my lungs, I had barely comprehended his words when I found myself pulled up violently by my hair. I screamed in pain, tears blurring my vision, still breathless.

'Understand this.' The anger that had been dominating his voice had changed; a cold cruelty coated his words as he spoke. They sent chills down my spine, and I trembled, my mind going into overdrive as terror flooded through me. Countless imagined punishments and tortures filled my mind.

'Understand that I am not forgiving.' At this he released my hair, pushing me forcefully to the ground. I fell with a shriek, once again winded as I hit the floor heavily, a moan of pain escaping my lips.

'And that if you do _anything-'_ He pulled me up painfully once more, his arm yanking my waist towards him. This time he practically threw me, flinging me through the air, and I landed on my back violently, the scream I had been voicing suddenly cut off.

'To upset me,' My head collided painfully with the wood, and for a moment my vision was blurry, before it flared back to clarity. Then, without warning, he was on top of me, pressing me down into the ground, trapping me. His face was just inches away, his bloodthirsty, sadistic eyes alight with cruelty.

'_You will regret it_.' His last few words were delivered with such malice, I wasn't sure he'd be able to resist killing me. I could see in his eyes the hunger he had for me; there was something very predatory about them, a certain glint that made my already fast-paced heart beat even faster. As a vicious smile appeared on his lips, I was sure the bite I dreaded above all else was here.

As horror possessed me I began to thrash, but he had me pinned in position, his grip too tight and sure to leave bruises. One hand snaked forward to stroke my cheek, before trailing down to my exposed neck. As always, his touch sent shivers through me, the coldness a stark contrast to my warm skin. Then, without delay, his teeth were piercing my neck, and the burning pain flared to life viciously, and I let out a horrifying scream.

At the same moment, a thunderous growl tore through the air, and with a tremendous crash, the window shattered, as a large something smashed through it. With a thud it landed right next to me, and as it snarled, Demetri pulled away violently, eliciting another scream from me, but this one was breathless and sounded strangled.

Gasping and frantic, my right hand snapped up to feel my neck. I was shaking so much I felt as if I was having a seizure. I finally managed to steady my hand, and with a distressed exhalation, I felt fleshy wounds where he had attacked me. With further terror – if that was even possible – I felt the sticky liquid that was my blood. It coated my neck, and with a silent panic I traced its path as it flowed down my collarbone. Still shaking uncontrollably, I slowly and somewhat spasmodically lifted my hand to eye level.

Blood was smeared all over my palm. It was a dark red in the dimming light, and it covered my fingers like paint. A terrible, life sustaining paint, which I desperately needed. My blood.

If I'd had air to spare I would have gasped at the sight of it. As it was, my mouth parted, but no air came. I wasn't breathing, the shakes now worse than ever, as I stared transfixed at my blood. Nausea assailed my stomach at the sight, and my body seized up, the vision of my blood coated hand too much for me to bear.

I didn't know why this petrified me more than Demetri, but it did. I couldn't repress the all-consuming feeling that my life was pouring out of me, slowly but steadily, as I lay there. It was unreasonable, and I knew he had had only moments before the invasion, but my mind was beyond reason.

I don't know how long I lay there, distressing. The world was suddenly filled only with my hand, my blood, and my absolute conviction that I was slowly dying. That was until a blurred mass of grey and white flew across the room, soaring over me, cutting through my petrified state. I was ever so slowly recovering when a punished howl tore through the air, piercing through my daze and waking me like an electric shock.

Unexpectedly empowered, I sat up speedily, as one does when suddenly surprised by their alarm in the morning. I took in the scene before me in an instant; not that I could discern much. The wolf and the vampire were battling at super speed, and appeared to be naught but blurs at times. Instinctively I knew the wolf was Paul. I had no reason for concluding this, but I knew it to be right.

Yet the fight itself wasn't what had unparalysed me. It was the sound Paul had made when Demetri had snuck through Paul's defences and powerfully launched him into the wall. I gasped and cringed at the sight of Paul crushing into the wood, my non bloody hand leaping to my mouth in horror.

Overall, their fight was one of fast flurries of action, and slower retreats, before attacking once more. The sounds of the fight were horrid, a mix of snarls, growls, snapping, and thumps. In the brief interludes between brawls, I carefully observed Paul, each time hoping beyond hope that he would be alright. But I had barely second to do so before they attacked once more.

I watched for maybe half a minute before they suddenly became yet another hazy flurry, yet this time, they somehow launched themselves outside in the process. I blinked confusedly, surprised to suddenly find them gone. Searching, I discovered that only Paul had disappeared. Demetri was standing in the doorway, staring out into the woods. The little light that made it into the cabin was rapidly fading, and I could make out only his silhouette.

I heard a loud growl that sounded like it came from just outside, and again I was certain it was Paul. He let out a dangerous howl, which was unexpectedly echoed by numerous other wolves. I couldn't believe it.

The pack was here.


	34. Embraced

**Chapter 34 - Embraced**

As an angry snarl tore through the air, and Demetri vanished from the cabin, I found my daze of panic once again enveloping me. Paul had brought me out of it, and without him, my feeling of slowly fading out of life returned. I was once more convinced that I was dying.

Thankfully, I still had some measure of control over my body. The shaking was returning – it had disappeared when I had frozen – and it was worse than ever. The cabin was shaking now, and while I tried to reach the nearby wall, I couldn't find it. My eyes were telling me it was just millimetres away, but no matter where I flailed my desperately searching arms, I couldn't find it.

Lunging forward in a wild attempt, I toppled forwards, and found myself for the millionth time collapsed on the floor. My arms were awkwardly sprawled in front of me, my stomach resting on the floor, as I glanced around blearily. The door was in sight. My stomach did a little jump of joy. If I could reach the door, I was one step closer to not dying.

I had almost convinced myself that I should start moving when I heard a floor board creak. I very nearly didn't hear it over the sounds of fighting from outside. Almost instantly the nausea from before settled in, as the panic that was beginning to feel normal tied my stomach in knots. Once more I felt my body react by locking itself down, and while I knew this was the time to run, I couldn't move.

My breaths kept hitching in my throat as I waited, tremors still wracking my body. Somebody was coming. But I didn't know who. A fight was still going on outside, so it couldn't be Demetri. But this didn't calm me at all. Tension and fear consumed me, as I waited, with bated breath.

Despite knowing somebody was there, it didn't stop me from starting violently when a pair of hands grasped my waist. Their warmth was almost burning, and that combined with my shock prevented me from crying out. I was lifted gently, and at his contact, I felt myself begin to calm. It was unreasonable, given the danger, but my body didn't listen to my mind.

Again, I had an unidentifiable feeling that told me who was standing behind me. He turned me around, and it was without surprise that my gaze fell on the worried face of Paul. One of his hands rested on my waist steadying me, while the other trailed over my face, apparently checking I was still in one piece. At that moment, with him so obviously worried for me, I was possessed with a bizarre urge to kiss him.

My eyes stared at his lips, at the frown they made, as I wondered. The impulse was growing, and the more I thought about it, the less bizarre it seemed. As the myriad of sounds around us faded to silence, I stepped forwards slowly. Without me consciously deciding to move it, my left hand traced along his shoulder to his neck. Then suddenly I was pulling his face downwards, and our lips met.

I forgot where I was. But it didn't matter. There was only Paul. His lips, so warm and sweet, meeting mine.

Until the arrival of a pale blur that smashed into Paul. We were ripped apart, and in the process, I was whacked backwards, and I found myself hitting the floor again. My head smacked the wood, and I could barely utter a painful moan before everything disappeared.

* * *

I was cold. Very cold. So cold that while I desperately wanted to keep my eyes closed and sleep, I couldn't. I blinked blearily, not wanting to see the world. However, as a pale figure took shape in my vision, my eyes snapped open.

Unfortunately, this didn't magically make him go away, as I'd been hoping. It only made his all too cheerful eyes and demeanour more visible. I flinched, groaning not just in response to him, but to the numerous aches that had made themselves known at my slight movement.

'Oh no.' I breathed miserably, disturbed to see him look even happier at my words.

'You're awake.' He sounded just as pleased as he looked. I guess I wasn't fun to torment unless I was awake.

My brain was taking a while to snap into action, and it was with surprise and distress that I realised he was holding me in his arms. He was sitting on the floor against the wall, his powerful arms locked around me; one beneath my knees and the other around my shoulders. Had it been anyone else, it would have been intimate. But Demetri had long since made it clear that he had total control over me, and delighted in making me uncomfortable. Thus this was simply somewhat disturbing, and an easy way for him to be cruel.

I reacted, instantly struggling when I realised, but he simply tightened his hold. I winced.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' He said dangerously, becoming serious. I fought the desire to make a snappy retort, deciding it probably wasn't good to antagonise him. I didn't know how much time had passed, but I had a feeling I wasn't in the 'safe' state where I could get away with it. But my caution couldn't harness my curiosity at his mood.

'Why are you so happy?' I asked, but before he could answer, an idea popped into my head.

'We're not in Italy are we?' My voice had turned somewhat frantic. His face darkened at this, as anger entered his voice.

'No. We're not. Though we would've been if not for the dogs.' At his words, all my recollections of the last few hours zoomed through my mind. Peering out what remained of the window, I saw that it was light outside. The fight was well and truly over.

'What happened?' I was almost scared to hear the answer.

'I grew tired of fending off their amateur attacks.' I gave him an irritated look at his vagueness, hiding the worry that was dominating my insides.

'They're outside.' This still wasn't overly helpful.

'Alive?' My voice was pleading and barely a whisper. He waited before answering, staring at me intently.

'Yes. Though if they continue to delay me, they won't stay that way.' I was lost for words. I could only stare blankly, part relieved, part concerned, and part curious, for this still did not explain his behaviour.

'But why did the fight stop?'

'I said alive, not unharmed. They are not able to attack me at present.' I cringed, but didn't speak. It still didn't quite give a reason for his mood.

'So what's all this?' I gestured at my current trapped position, as a shiver shuddered through me. His icy skin was stealing away my heat, leaving me freezing. Annoyingly, the slight movement of my hand had managed the cause numerous twinges of pain to flare. 'Did you think I might walk off in my sleep?'

'No. You cannot leave without me.' The way he said it, it sounded almost like a challenge. But I didn't have time to think on that before his next sentence wiped it from my mind.

'This is to annoy your suitor.'

My what? I was momentarily stunned. Demetri was looking purposefully towards the back of the room, and I whipped my head to look in the same direction. As my eyes fell on a figure by the wall, I suddenly grasped the meaning of his words. I clapped my hands to my mouth, eyes wide.

Paul. He was barely discernible beneath the masses of chains that were wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides. He was gagged, his eyes burning with something I couldn't quite identify. I was just glad that he was alive.

'What did you do to him?' I gasped, mortified. I knew he was injured. If Paul had been unharmed, he would've been able to break out in a second. Demetri was all too pleased at my reaction, savouring my distress.

'Broke a few ribs.' His voice was very smug and satisfied, in contrast to the tortured moan I let out.

'You should be glad he's still alive.' Every one of his words was now a blow. The thought of Paul injured was painful just to consider. I wanted to block my ears, to stop listening to his gloating voice, but I couldn't. I did know that I had to get away from him.

I made to try and sit up, but my body protested viciously, and I let out a sharp gasp. Demetri smirked at me, sadistically pleased at my pain.

'Feeling your punishment, are we?' I made a face at him, and in response he stood up, all traces of his good humour vanishing, to be replaced with anger.

'Do not make the mistake of thinking you're forgiven.' He said venomously, before releasing his hold, causing me to fall to the floor. I whimpered at the impact, my whole body protesting. I was bruised everywhere, and my muscles and bones were filled with a searing ache. To move even an inch was not only impossible, but to enhance the pain tenfold.

Demetri sure knew a thing or two about causing pain.


	35. Torture

**Chapter 35 - Torture**

Demetri sure knew a thing or two about causing pain. I saw it in his eyes as he watched me, cruelty radiating from his every pore, and lacing his words as continued to speak.

'I was going to kill him.' The wooden floor was hard against my back as I lay there, breathless. I tried to heave myself to the side, but I had barely raised my arms from the floor when they dropped beside me, as I let out a cry of pain.

And I'd thought not being able to move was torturous. This was worse. For while I was still unable to move, this time I not only had no strength, but was taken over by pain. Though it was nowhere near the agony of his bite, I still suffered.

'Until I realised something.' Something in his voice changed. My eyes flicked from the ceiling to his face, curious despite my minds surety that I didn't want to hear what he had to say.

'His was the spirit that I had observed in your body.' Ok, that was not what I had been expecting. But while this was simply strange to him, it meant so much more to me. Events over the past few days suddenly made sense. Not all of them, but some of them.

Paul had imprinted on me. That was why his touch was such a relief, so fulfilling. And why the thought of him in pain was so unbearable. But it _definitely_ didn't explain why he'd been so violent towards me in the last week. Things still didn't make sense.

The very thought of me being an imprint, Paul's imprint, was so very strange. It made sense, but then it didn't. My mind just couldn't seem to grasp it, to find a way to look at it where everything was clear. It was kind of nice though. To know that he cared. To know that he was there. To know that he felt as I did.

But I was abruptly yanked from my confusion by Demetri's next few words.

'But that wasn't all that I realised. I realised death wasn't punishment enough for him touching you, and trying to steal you away.'

'And so I was left contemplating the best way to torture him.' I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, wanting to be anywhere but here, listening to this. But the darkness only fuelled the parade of imagined tortures that filled my vision, and I tore my eyes open.

'And it came to me in a stroke of brilliance.'

'You.' He looked at me meaningfully as he said this, his voice full of something kind of like excitement. Even though I was stuck, immovable on the floor, I couldn't stop the impulse to raise my eyebrows.

'What?' I had no idea what he was talking about. He was only too delighted to explain.

'I'm going to hurt you, in order to hurt him.' My mouth dropped, as I froze mid breath. My heart thumped haphazardly, once again increasing its pace. The rush of blood in my head, the loud pulses which resounded in my ears, was all too familiar.

I tried again to move, possessed with the unreasonable urge to reach Paul, somehow feeling that he would save me. But I couldn't. No matter what I did, I couldn't even roll over. All I achieved was a few more gasps and exclamations as my body throbbed with pain.

Demetri started forward, as terror began to weave its evil tendrils through my heart. But he didn't approach me. He walked past me, and I painfully turned my head to watch as he instead approached Paul. I'm guessing they talked. Or rather, Demetri made some cruel comments and Paul didn't respond. Part of me felt for Paul; he must be in lots of pain to be prevented from phasing.

But the rest of me was starting to freak out. I was willing to bet a lot that Demetri wouldn't go half way in his punishment.

Which meant that he was going to bite me.

I'd somehow managed not to fall into hysterics, but I estimated I was about one evil look away. And as he turned to look at me, anticipation lighting up his face, I lost all of my reason.

'Please.' I sobbed, as he crept forward. In just moments he was standing next to me, looking down at me hungrily.

'Not again.' He crouched down, blocking Paul from view, and I saw in his eyes that deadly look.

'No. Not again!' My voice was louder now, but he only smiled. A cruel smile that I never wanted to see again.

I wanted to fight. This stupor was a thousand times worse than being given the chance to fight. It enhanced the feeling of having no control, of being weak, to the point where my heart felt fit to burst from the terror induced.

'NO. You can't!' My cries only seemed to energise him. It was sickening. His right arm snaked around my waist, his hand resting on my back, as he lift me until my face was level with his. I was barely a foot off the floor, my left hand still touching the floor boards, but it felt as if I was seconds away from falling to my death. It pushed me over the edge.

'PLEASE!' It was almost a scream, but still he seemed unaffected, except for a slight widening of his malicious grin. My head fell backwards as he leaned into me, the movement causing pain to lace through me, which coated my next exclamation.

'NOT AGAIN! NO!' I was screaming now, petrified, but still intensely focused on his movements. I screamed as I felt his cold lips on my neck. My gaze fell on Paul, and our eyes met, before Demetri's teeth grazed my neck, and my eyes no longer saw the room around me, as I screamed again.

However, that scream was nothing compared to the hair raising, bloodcurdling scream that escaped me as his teeth sunk into me, and the unbearable agony began.

Scream after scream was torn from my throat, each as horrifying as the last, as the agony ripped through me. Excruciating pain, that didn't fade, but only seemed to grow.

Eventually my screams died out, but still I was agonized by the piercing bite.

The pain continued on, and it still burned as I faded away.

* * *

I'd thought I'd given up before. I'd thought denial was the answer.

I was wrong.

This was the answer. I'd stumbled upon it briefly before, that day in the warehouse, and later on when I lay on the road. And I had found it again.

It was glorious. No feeling. No control over my body. It wasn't my body. It was completely separate.

It was more than just ignoring my problems. It was removing myself. Retreating into myself.

No emotion. No feeling. No pain.

At first everything was dark. And that was nice. It was as if I was sleeping. I liked sleeping.

And then the world appeared again. It was like watching a movie. There was sound, and sight, and smell; not that there was much to smell.

I didn't wonder about why anything happened. It just did.

I watched, detached, as wolves burst in through the doorway and approached us. I saw that there were arms around me, but I couldn't feel them. I heard the snarls and growls of the wolves, and tried to follow the action as they attacked the pale man. It was difficult; they moved too fast for me.

I didn't find it strange when the wolves suddenly disappeared. It was just me and the pale man. And that was fine, because I no longer felt.

The pale man looked angry. He was pacing, and it was getting a bit boring. Then I started watching the sky. It was changing colours as the sun set, and for once it wasn't cloudy, so I could actually see the sky as it changed. At first it was a yellow-blue. And it was pretty. But it was even prettier when the orange glow set in. It was mesmerizing, and I found myself enraptured, and peaceful. It was the closest I had come to feeling in a while, and I let it fill me up, revelling in the feeling.

That was until I found myself violently flung back into my body. I gasped, the shock sending my mind reeling. It was almost dark, and the world was full of shadows. I was sure that Demetri was here somewhere, but I couldn't see him. My mind was scattered, the sudden influx of emotions and feeling an overload after my stasis. But above all, it was the pain that was consuming.

It wasn't that the pain was terrible. It was still the pounding ache that filled my bones, flaring to life when I moved. But the sudden onslaught after that blissful nothingness was too much.

And the fear. My heart was racing, ready to leap out of chest. I didn't like it. I wanted to go back. Back inside myself. But I couldn't. I couldn't find the way.


	36. Threats

**Chapter 36 - Threats**

I was trapped. Trapped in my body, trapped in this cabin. Emotions rolled through me, a confusing mass of anger, fear, pain, defeat, sadness, depression and many more. My trademark optimism and quirkiness was gone, destroyed.

And I could do nothing but lie here, propped against a wall, unable to move. Like Paul. My eyes whipped around the room, searching for the chains that had wrapped around his body. I thought I could see them to my left, but I couldn't see him.

Panic grew rapidly, and somehow I found the strength to lurch forward towards the back wall. I was possessed. I had to know where he was. I had to see him, know that he was okay. It was all I cared about.

Squeezing my mouth shut to prevent myself from exclaiming at the pain when I moved, I ever so slowly crawled across the floor. My stomach dragged across the wood, my arms aching, a blue-green bruise colouring my right forearm. But I had eyes only for the back wall. Inch by inch the masses of chains came into view, haphazardly strewn across the floor.

But I couldn't find Paul. When I finally reached the wall, what felt like hours later, he was nowhere to be found. My hands tore at the chains, flinging them away as if I might find him buried underneath. But eventually I had to conclude that he wasn't there.

The knowledge was crushing. Was this what imprinting was all about? The feeling of incompleteness, of being alone when they weren't with you? The worry that was snaking through me as I wondered where he was? I struggled to pull myself together. I tried not to think of all the terrible reasons he was gone, but they were sneaking into my brain.

I was playing with the chains now, twisting one through my hands anxiously as I thought. Though it was painful to move, the urge to do something overcame the ache in my arms. I tried shaking my head to get rid of my thoughts, but that only made me dizzy. Slumping forwards so that I was lying on my stomach, I was on the verge of tears, but the sane part of me rebelled. Mentally slapping myself in my face, that part was screaming at me to stop thinking about a guy that a couple days ago had attacked me.

I probably would have gone to war with myself over Paul, if I hadn't been surprised by a voice in my ear. It jerked me from my daydreaming, his words laced with his usual cruelty.

'Did you miss me?' I turned my head in the direction of his voice, and was slightly startled to find him lying next to me. I'd known he was close, but still. I wasn't quite sure what expression I had on my face, but he seemed intrigued.

'What's that expression for, Chloe?' I flinched at his use of my name, but refused to respond, turning my head away to stare in the other direction. My hands were clenching the chain now, gripping it as if it were keeping me alive. His hand flashed forward, gripping my chin, and turning my head forcefully to look back at him. Somehow he'd managed to move even closer to me, so that his face was just inches from mine.

'Don't look away from me. I'm talking.' He released his hand, and I fought the urge to turn away again. But I couldn't stop myself from making a retort.

'I know you're talking. I'm ignoring you.' Somehow I managed not to avert my eyes as I said it, fuelled by my overload of emotions. They were obviously also controlling my brain, because antagonising him really wasn't a good idea. Our eye contact meant that I was able to watch with silent fear as anger bloomed in his eyes, and his expression changed to the cold, deadly face that meant violence was coming. Unable to look at him any longer, I turned my head once more.

In a flurry I found myself flipped onto my back, with him on top of me. I wanted to slap myself for being such an idiot. Why did I have to say that? Memories of the last time I had been pinned like this were fresh in my mind. As my breaths turned into pants, and his mouth moved to my neck, I felt a scream build up inside of me.

'I would bite you right now for that. Your blood, so delectable, with the delicious bonus of enhancing by strength and skills, increasing my power. The rush is intoxicating.' His lips were cold on my ear, and I trembled, whimpering. His voice had that hair-raising edge that screamed danger, and sent shivers through me, sending my brain into a frenzy so that I barely understood his words.

'But there's somewhere we have to be.' While the knowledge that I'd somehow managed to avoid being bitten was a relief, I wasn't comforted by his words.

'But don't worry. I'll get to taste you again soon enough.' I had no response to that. Temporarily stunned with fear, I was surprised when I was suddenly lifted, and I had barely registered that I was in his arms again before we out the door, and the world was speeding by.

* * *

We skidded to a stop not long after leaving, and my eyes flew open as he deposited me on the ground. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything. Crashing waves were audible, and I cocked my head to listen to them, confused. Surely we were still in the woods? A ridiculous idea popped into my head, and I spun my head to look at Demetri, or in the direction I thought he was standing.

'Are we-?' I was cut off by his hand covering my mouth, turning the rest of my sentence into a series of unidentifiable sounds. That was all the answer I needed.

We were at the reservation. The thought fuelled me with energy, and I struggled to escape his hold, flailing my limbs. The instant I moved the ache returned, burning in my arms and legs. His hand muffled my protests and exclamations of pain, and I fought for only seconds before I found myself thrown into a tree.

My head was slammed into the trunk, and I gasped at the pain, as a throbbing head ache bloomed into life. The world was just a black blur now, vertigo setting in as his hand once again wrapped around my throat, holding me off the ground.

'Unless you want to be punished again, I suggest you stay quiet and don't move.' He was disturbingly excited about the prospect of punishing me, and I cringed. My burst of strength had gone, leaving me limp and aching as he held me up. Already breathless, I mutely choked as he blocked my windpipe. Fortunately, he soon released me, at which point I crumpled, collapsing on the ground in a severe state of confusion.

He picked me up, once again silencing me with a hand over my mouth, with the other arm wrapped around my waist. I had closed my eyes in an attempt to stop the dizziness, but to no avail. I barely noticed as we moved once more, focussed only on the piercing head ache, and wanting it to stop.

Eventually, I noticed the dull red glow that was seeping through my eyelids. It was faint, but curiosity got the better of me, and I peeled open my eyes. It took me a few seconds to figure out what I was looking at. Peering through the few trees that hid us, eventually I figured out that the light I was looking at was a bonfire. I could see the silhouettes of people gathered around it, the brightness of the flames reflecting of the nearby water.

Despite it being a familiar scene, it wasn't until I'd been staring at the group for almost a minute that it clicked. My eyes flew open, and I would have gasped if I'd been able to. We were at a pack meeting! At first hope filled me, but it soon filtered away as a dreadful realisation dawned. For I could think of only one reason why Demetri would be here, and it wasn't to hand me over.


	37. Conflict

**Chapter 37 - Conflict**

Almost at the same moment, a series of howls ripped through the air. A loud growl resounded from behind us, and Demetri spun in time for us to see two wolves bearing down on us. He reacted instantly, flinging me out of the way. I felt like a puppet, flying through the air; unable to move, and unable to make a sound as my breath had been stolen by the sudden flight.

I hit the sand with an agonising thump. One's body could only be whacked into things and thrown through the air so many times, and I had well and truly reached my limit. My head was throbbing even worse now, and I could barely keep my eyes open. I was having trouble drawing breath, every inhalation invoking fierce pain in my lungs.

I was certain that I had concussion, my thoughts so disjointed that thinking of anything left me bewildered and confused. I ached all over, and by now I was sure that my bruises probably had bruises.

I would have laid there doing nothing if the angry sounds of fighting from nearby hadn't somehow managed to capture my attention. Though sluggish, my brain, by some miracle, was able to think. Demetri was busy fighting. And the pack was just metres away. If I could reach them, tell them I was here, they would have a chance, and I could escape. It seemed simple. All it would take was one yell, and they would hear me.

But one yell proved awfully difficult. I opened my mouth, but I had no air, and while I strained my burning lungs, I couldn't do it. I couldn't even manage a whisper. I couldn't make a sound, not a single moan of pain, and I would have pulled at my hair in frustration if I'd been able to.

I was so close. So close that I could see them, the moving silhouettes, the fire teasing me, taunting me. I wasn't going to fail when I was this close. I was going to get to that fire.

But it was going to take a while. Already on my stomach, I stretched my arms out in front of me, digging them into the sand. I hauled myself forward, gritting my teeth at the effort, and the agony that ripped through my arms at the movement. I tried to dig my feet into the sand, to help push myself forward, wanting to moan at the pain, but not having the breath.

My progress was devastatingly slow, and I felt as if I was getting nowhere. The bonfire, while within view, seemed to be even further away than before. But with the snarls and growls behind me an unpleasant reminder of what waited if I didn't get there, I didn't stop.

I couldn't shake the feeling that this was my last chance. Last chance before he took me away, this time for good. The thought was so terrible that I couldn't bear it, couldn't stand to consider it. Being bitten, again, and again, and again.

There was nothing worse.

I almost wished that he'd killed me. It would have been easier. Less painful. And I wouldn't be trapped in this horrible living nightmare. But I was glad. Glad for a chance at life. But if I didn't escape, I couldn't keep doing this.

I couldn't cope. It was too much. Too hard.

I thought as I pulled, trying to distance myself from the pain as I dragged myself through the sand. But the ache was spreading, my body protesting the movement, my lungs screaming at me to stop. I'd been staring at the flames, the finish line of my desperate journey, but they were changing. They were spinning, and now the sky was the ground, and everything was distorted.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the fire was burned into my vision. I scrabbled at the sand, reaching for something, anything, to steady myself, to make the world stable and solid again. But there was nothing. I had stopped moving now, completely disoriented.

My hands resorted to clawing at my chest, as if pressing it, touching it, would help me breathe. Never before had the simple act of inhaling taken so much effort, so much will. My gasps were getting more desperate, and my hands continued searching for a relief I couldn't find, eventually finding the small carved wolf that I wore around my neck.

I gripped it tightly, as if it held all the answers. And in a way it did. It had saved me. Without it, I would have died the first time Demetri had bitten me. Once again I found myself thinking if maybe it would have been better if I hadn't survived.

If I destroyed it, I wouldn't have to wake up next time he bit me. I wouldn't have to endure his touch, his terrifying bite, again. He would leave me alone. But then I would be dead. And Matt would be alone.

I couldn't do it. Couldn't leave him. And Paul. My heart skipped a beat at the thought. What would happen to him? No, death wasn't an option. I had too much to live for. While I still had a chance, I wasn't going to die.

Perhaps, in a few minutes, I would be able to continue. Maybe the world would go back to staying level, and my arms would be able to pull me forwards. I had almost convinced myself that all I needed to do was rest a bit, and then I would be fine. But that flew right out the window when Demetri burst from the trees with a roar, wrestling with the two wolves.

At first I wasn't even sure if they were really there. The world was still distorted, but at least the ground appeared to be stationary again. But when a pair of cold arms hauled me off the ground, I knew it wasn't a hallucination.

'You moved. That means you'll have to be punished again.' His lips were cold on my ear, his words delivered in a sinister whisper that sounded kind of like a growl. He was angry, but at the same time, I could detect a hint of enthusiasm in his words. He wanted to hurt me.

While fear seared through my veins at the thought of another beating, and my heart stuttered in response, I showed no outward sign of reaction. My eyes were open, and I was fighting to keep them that way, as his hand once again covered my mouth.

I was certain the rest of the pack must have heard his appearance, and sure enough, as we turned to face them, I saw a flurry of movement underway. Without any delay, Demetri zoomed forwards, bringing me with him, and I found myself suddenly at the bonfire I had been so desperate to reach.

The abrupt transition from darkness to the illuminated area surrounding the fire left me even more bewildered, and I blinked frantically, wincing.

'Don't move.' Demetri's voice was loud and dangerous, and it carried through the still air.

When I finally managed to get my eyes to work, I saw that everybody had indeed frozen. I couldn't make out who was who, with the world still strangely distorted, but the faces I managed to find wore an expression that I recognised; the _I'm trying not to phase_ look. I guessed they were probably shaking too, but since everything was off balance, I couldn't be sure.

The one thing my mind managed to lock onto was Paul. Where was he? Was he here, at the bonfire? I couldn't see him, but then again, I couldn't really see anyone. I hoped he was here. I wanted to see him. But if he was here, he was in danger. They all were.

Unless I was wrong, and I sincerely hoped I was.

'Let her go.' I assumed it was Sam that was speaking, as the voice had a sense of power about it.

'No. She's mine.' It was exactly what I expected, but I was still disturbed by the excitement in his voice. I wanted to believe that he was just excited about controlling me, but instinct was telling me that that wasn't it. Instinct was telling me he was excited because this conversation was headed right where he wanted it; to a fight.

Numerous growls met his response, but nobody moved. I had settled for staring at the fire; it was far too difficult to try and look at anything else. It was too strange to stare at one of the pack, not knowing who they were.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if I even had the ability to do anything. I wanted to stop this; to stop the fight. For while I desperately wanted to be free, I wouldn't let them pay the price. But how?

'But if any of you try anything, I will hurt her.' If I'd been able to, I would have rolled my eyes. He couldn't resist the chance to throw in a threat. I wasn't too worried, though I think that was mostly due to my addled brain. However, I already knew he was going to punish me, so the warning kind of washed over me.

'Why are you here?' Sam's voice rang out, wary.

'Because you interfered.' The anger was creeping into Demetri's voice, and I felt his grip tighten; the arm that was around my waist pulled me closer.

'I would have left you alone if you'd just let me take her away. But you couldn't stay out of it.' With every word I grew more and more sure of the reason he had come here. The wolves had meddled, preventing him from leaving, and trying to free me. And he was angry.

With every moment my thoughts grew more frantic. With me as a hostage, the wolves couldn't fight him properly. But he would never release me; I was the perfect protection and distraction. Somehow, I needed to remove myself.

Sam had yet to respond, and I hoped he was trying to figure out a way around the fight. I really hoped he was having more luck than I was.

'You meddled too many times. And now you will pay the price.' More growls met his words, this time given with a malice that screamed danger. I estimated the wolves were probably inches from phasing now. Demetri was angering them, forcing them into a fight where they weren't thinking clearly.

Worry was consuming me, the need to find a way to save them driving me crazy. But it was all internal. My mind had split; my body no longer mine to control. The pain, overwhelming and unrelenting, had overtaken my body. My eyes were frozen, trapped staring into the flames, watching as the fire burned. It seemed to be pulsing, twisting beyond what was natural, my concussion moulding reality so that everything was warped.

I was so close to reaching that daze I so desperately wanted to sink back into. But should I? Could I leave them? Would I be any help if I stayed? These questions tormented me, uncertainty causing my stomach to churn. My breaths were still the wild, agonising pants, my lungs strained as they worked. I didn't know what to do.

However, I never got the chance to make the decision.


	38. Sacrifice

**Chapter 38 - Sacrifice**

'And I'm going to start with her.' It took me a few seconds to realise 'her' was me. More moments passed as my muddled brain tried to figure out what he was talking about. When I finally made the connection, my eyes flew wide open, my heart stumbling, feeling like it was doing somersaults.

In the same instant, a terrible howl rent the air, its close proximity startling. My eyes flew from the fire, unfreezing, locking onto the source of the sound. A large grey wolf was being restrained by two others.

Paul. I'd known it was him the moment I heard his howl; a side effect of imprinting, I guess. I wanted desperately to go to him, to touch him, even for an instant. But it wasn't possible.

I was brought back to reality by a cold touch on my neck. It was like an electric shock, and in a wave of pain I found myself once again firmly in my body, every ache fresh and real once more. The dizziness was enhanced, muddling my thoughts and swirling them around so that I barely knew where I was. But one thought remained; though I kind of wish it hadn't.

I was about to be bitten. Horror began to flood through me, quickly transforming into terror. The inability to fight, able to do nothing but wait, limp in his hold, was torturous. My fear was so intense, so penetrating, that as his teeth pierced my neck, I found the strength to utter a soft but agonising cry.

After that, there was nothing but the pain. Agony, ripping through me, starting at the neck and filling me, paralysing in its intensity. I burned on the inside, unable to flail or thrash, and yearning passionately for it to end.

And eventually, it did.

I was conscious when relief finally came, sweeping over me in a much needed numbness. I could vaguely here growls and snarls in the background, could see vague and blurred figures rushing forwards. I found myself falling, hitting the sand by the fire with a thud.

I couldn't believe I was still responsive, still awake. I had gone from frantic pants to slow, barely there breaths, my chest barely moving as I inhaled. It was with a barely functioning mind that I looked on at the fight occurring, watching detachedly as Demetri mercilessly struck blow after blow. It wasn't until I saw him take hold of a grey form I knew to be Paul, and threw him to the ground, that I snapped back to alertness.

I had to stop this. I had to save Paul. I had to save them all. Demetri was too strong, my blood giving him the strength to take on the whole pack without fear. He would beat them. Unless I helped. But how? I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move. And if I could, it wouldn't help. I needed to think beyond the obvious.

How could I help the wolves, but in a different way?

The answer was right in front of me. Literally.

With my cheek pressed into the sand, my wolf necklace was visible, resting just inches away. There was nothing I could say to distract him. But there was something I could do.

He wouldn't stop for anything. Anything except to save me.

I would have to be dying, to be on the edge, for him to come. And at the moment, I was pretty damn close. There was only one thing saving me.

The necklace. The magical charm that somehow healed me. But I couldn't just take it off; he'd just put it back on me. I would have to get rid of it. For good.

And almost as if waiting for me to think of it, I noticed the rock. Small, with a sharp, pointed edge, it was sitting just a foot away. It was the answer to the question I had been just about to ask; how to destroy it?

My hand reached out, slowly, tentatively, pain surging through my arm, protesting the motion. My fingers closed around the rock, gripping it tightly. Was I really considering this? Would I be able to? I didn't know if I had the strength.

But what if I did? What if I could actually destroy the one thing that was keeping me alive? Would it even work? There was no point in anything if it didn't actually distract him. But how to tell him?

I could yell something. If my voice obeyed me. But what to say? What could possibly cause him to realise what I was doing? The answer popped into my head almost instantly.

It seemed too easy. Everything was in place. But there was still the most important question of all.

Did I want to do this? Did I want to risk my life, knowing that I was destroying the one thing that could save me, and that doing so would all too likely lead to death? Could I do this, knowing that there were a million ways it could go wrong, and I might accomplish nothing, but still die?

Could I give up my life, to save the pack?

It would mean leaving them. Leaving Paul and Matt. My heart contracted at the thought, as hot tears began flowing down my cheeks. I would have to leave everything.

But I would do it for them. To save them.

My left hand picked up the wolf charm, and I brought it to my lips, mouthing the words I didn't have the strength to say.

_Please, let this work._

Awkwardly manoeuvring myself so that my right arm was free, I pulled the chain as far away from my neck as possible, before laying the wolf charm on the sand in front of me. Taking a deep breath, and wincing at the sharp pain that resulted, I positioned the rock, and began sawing.

My hand immediately protested the movement, the push and pull of the rock as it dug into the wood. Ever so slowly, the wooden carving began to splinter, the rock gouging through the miniature wolf. I was trembling, my breaths shaky and irregular.

Despite its miniscule size, it took a fair amount of effort to scrape through the middle of the wolf; the head on one side of the groove and the tail on the other. The fight continued on behind me, and I increased my pace, praying that I would finish in time to save them.

Finally, I estimated I'd weakened the middle enough that I would now be able to snap it with my hands. I would have to attract his attention, and then split it. I knew that if I broke it now, I would never have the strength to call to him.

My clenched fingers dropped the rock, before clutching onto the wolf. The fear I had been hiding as I worked abruptly surfaced, my stomach churning, heart pounding.

There was no going back if I went through with this.

My eyes glanced towards the struggle once more. They needed me. They were fighting for me.

I had to help them.

I twisted, pulling myself into a sitting position. My head swam at the disorientation that followed, my heart thundering at the exertion. My vision began to spin once more, and I lost sight of everything, the flickering flames just an orange blur. But I didn't need to see.

I just needed my voice. Clenching the carved wolf with two hands now, and pressing then against my chest, I took a shuddering breath, tears rolling thick and fast down my face as I spoke.

'I said I'd rather die than go with you.' My voice was hoarse, thick with emotion, but I thought it was loud enough that he would hear it. I adjusted my grip on the wolf, ready to pull.

'Now I'm going to prove it.'

Fighting back the terror that was ensnaring me, I yanked hard, tearing the wolf into two, a sob escaping my lips as I did so.

The affect was instantaneous. A thunderous roar ripped through the air, as pain flared up, sharp and excruciating, consuming me. Air was stolen from me with a whoosh, as some invisible force slammed into my stomach. I fell backwards as my bones turned to liquid, barely feeling my head hit the ground.

My eyes were open, but I could not see. I couldn't breathe as I lie, crumpled. I could feel my life force draining, diminishing, fading. My heart was all I could hear, its beats weakening, slowing. But soon even that was gone, and nothing remained.

* * *

_Quil's POV_

'Now I'm going to prove it.' Her voice rang out, quiet but audible for us with enhanced hearing, despite the myriad of growls echoing around. I wasn't paying an attention to her words, focused as I was on the battle.

But that all changed in an instant.

Paul's thoughts suddenly became a panicked exclamation, saying nothing, but conveying a mixture of emotions. He let out a tortured whine at the same moment that the leech spun around to face Chloe. His face was strangely contorted as he let out a furious roar.

'**NO!**' I briefly wondered what the heck she had done to elicit such a reaction, and distract him so completely, before he lurched forwards in her direction. We followed just milliseconds after, all of us sprinting in her direction. Evidently, Paul knew something none of us did, as he was ahead of the rest of us.

The vamp stopped by her side, reaching for Chloe's motionless body, as he let out another yell of fury, this one unintelligible. Paul was there just moments later, and tackled the leech to the ground, causing them both to fly over her limp form.

We surged forwards, surrounding her protectively and advancing on the pair that were locked in combat. Paul was flung through the air by a swipe from the leech, and he flew in our direction, crashing into Jared. The vamp was on his feet instantly, fists clenched, his face consumed with rage.

'FOOLS!' He almost screamed it at us, a frenzy over taking him. He didn't advance, but just stood there menacingly.

'YOU WORRY ABOUT PROTECTING HER!' He flashed forward, and Sam launched himself at him, the two brawling for an instant before the leech retreated once more.

'BUT THE STUPID GIRL JUST COULDN'T STAY OUT OF IT! SHE JUST _HAD_ TO INTERFERE,' He paused for a second, seemingly to control his rage. Part of me felt a spark of joy that Chloe had caused him trouble. Point one for the human.

'My plans, RUINED! But not all of them.' His voice had lost the madness, but instead was edged with cruelty. I wasn't the only one confused by the statement. What was he talking about?

'You stand there, thinking you've won. But it's too late.'

'You can have her. It would be all too easy to kill you all, and take her with me, but it will be far more entertaining to let you suffer.' We lunged forward then, but he moved further away, a creepy smile forming on his lips.

'She'll be dead in just hours. _And there is nothing you can do to save her._'

With a growl Matt bounded forwards, racing after the vamp, teeth snapping as they disappeared into the trees. Jared, Embry, Jacob and Leah followed, their snarls ripping through the air, but I stood frozen, the leech's words still sinking in.

_Dead in just hours_.


	39. Vigil

**Chapter 39 - Vigil**

_Quil's POV_

It couldn't be true.

Turning, I saw Paul had already phased back, and was worriedly knelt with Sam, also human, next to Chloe. I phased, the shivering feeling matching the coil of dread that was growing in my stomach as I stared. Pulling on my shorts, I hurried forward, my face full of horror as my eyes found the fresh bite mark on her neck.

But my face was nothing compared to Paul's. He looked like he was dying. All doubt that I'd had about their imprint was gone instantly. The sight of him, so desperate, so distraught, made me long for Claire. I wanted to touch her, ascertain that she was alright. I never wanted to experience what Paul was going through.

'Paul. I need you to stay with me. There's still time.' Sam's voice was slow and calming, and immediately stopped the tremors that had begun shaking through Paul. The alpha power was hidden in the words; I could feel it.

'We need to take her to Sue. She can help.' Paul hesitated before nodding. I felt Seth walk up beside me as Sam turned to face us.

'Seth. Run to your house, find Sue, and tell her we'll bring Chloe as soon as possible.' Seth gave a small nod before disappearing. In the short time it had taken for Sam to speak, Paul had gathered Chloe up in his arms. Her eyes were open, but they stared blankly, unseeing. And her breaths; they were so faint at first I didn't think she was breathing at all.

I wanted to kill him. Kill the leech that had dared to harm one of us. But that wouldn't help her. I bottled my emotions, locking them away, snapping into action, as the three of us began running.

* * *

It took us what felt like an eternity to get to Sue's. Paul still hadn't said a word, which was strange for Paul, but given the situation, it wasn't that weird.

I could sense his relief when we stormed into the house, to find Sue anxiously waiting with Seth. She gestured to place Chloe on the main table, which Paul did with a gentleness that was a stark contrast to his usual temperament.

Sue began fussing over her as Paul collapsed in a chair by the table, holding Chloe's hand and playing with her fingers. For a moment Sue looked like she was going to protest this, but after a quick shared glance with Sam, she ignored Paul and his vigil.

Sue ran several checks, but made no comments as she worked. However, her worried frown remained, and as the minutes passed by, it deepened. Eventually, she pulled back, twisting her hands anxiously.

'I'm not sure what to do. She's in desperate need of a blood transfusion, but even if I do that, I'm not sure if it'll be enough. Her heart is so weak, I don't know if it'll make it. But that's not all. Even if it does work, she's still comatose.'

'The best we can do is start the transfusion, and hope she can last.' With that, she bustled out of the room, before returning moments later with a load of medical equipment I didn't recognise.

The rest of us were still in shock. We didn't speak, no one wanting to broach the topic. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Chloe, dying? It couldn't be true. It wasn't just that she was a friend, someone I would miss. She was one of the tribe, injured on our watch. She shouldn't be dying at all.

And then there was Paul. I marvelled t the fact that he hadn't yet phased from the roiling mass of emotions that he had to be experiencing. But what if the unspeakable happened?

No. I couldn't think of it. The death of an imprint; it was incomprehensible.

Paul still hadn't reacted in any way. He was just sitting there, staring at Chloe, fidgeting with her right hand. Sam was watching him carefully, as if expecting him to lash out at Sue as she worked. Paul could snap out of his daze at any moment, and with Paul being Paul, things could go wrong very quickly.

But Paul remained in his vigil, oblivious as Sue worked. After a time, Sue stepped back, pushing her hair out of her face as she sighed.

'Well, everything is set up. If it works, it'll take a few hours.'

'But?' Sam's voice was anxious, yet determined. Sue glanced at Paul for a moment, but Sam gestured at her to continue.

'But I don't think we've got enough time. Just in the time she's been here her pulse has weakened, and her breathing has deteriorated. I fear that she's lost too much blood. Her heart rate isn't too bad considering the coma, but that causes so many more problems.'

'Given the circumstances, it's most likely caused by an ischemic stroke.' Seeing the look of confusion on Sam's face, which I'm sure I also wore, she rephrased.

'The coma's most likely the result of the blood loss, though I suspect her mental state was also a contributor. The problem is, she's heading into the vegetative state. It means it'll be less likely for her to wake up.'

The more Sue spoke, the more I wanted to be like Paul; dead to the world. I didn't want to hear how unlikely it was that Chloe would survive. I wanted to pinch myself, and then wake up and realise none of this was real.

But it was real. And things were looking worse and worse.

'Is there nothing you can do?' Sam's voice expressed a bleak desperation that summed up exactly how I was feeling.

'I'm sorry. Even if she lasts, there's no real treatment for a coma. But I have to tell you, without a miracle, it's likely she'll be gone within the hour.'

I felt like I'd been whacked in the stomach. Surely this couldn't actually be happening. We were protectors of the tribe. We were supposed to kill vampires.

We weren't supposed to let them kill our friends.

But she wasn't just a friend. She was a sister to one of the pack. And she was an imprint.

She couldn't die.

'No.' We all started, like we'd been zapped with electricity. It took me a few seconds to grasp that Paul was the one that had spoken. He had snapped out of his reverie, the dying look that had been his expression now replaced with determination.

He stood up, his chair scraping across the wooden floor with a screech that seemed to break us from our silence.

'Paul,' Sam's voice was careful and sympathetic. Paul's head whipped in his direction, the bright light highlighting his dangerous expression.

'No. There has to be a way to save her.' His tone left no room for argument.

With a lingering look at Chloe, who looked so small and fragile lying on the table, her eyes still frozen as they stared, he began pacing. Up and down. Up and down. He was never more than about 2 metres away from her, walking beside the table, his eyes flitting over to her frequently.

I could almost see his brain ticking over, thinking, searching wildly for anything, anything at all, that could save her. He was mouthing words under his breath, but I couldn't hear them. Amazingly, he wasn't anywhere near phasing. No trembling, so seething growls. Just single-minded determination.

I don't know how long Paul paced, while the rest of us stood around hopelessly, watching. All I knew was that I was suddenly jolted from my daze by his hopeful voice.

'That's it.' I blinked, staring at him in confusion.

'What?' My voice sounded dead, and kind of slurred.

'I've got an idea.'

'A good idea?' Now I was hesitant. Paul was deep in thought, and didn't reply.

'Paul?' I asked.

'Inject her with my blood.'

There was pause, before Sue perked up, her face animated.

'That could work!' Her face was alight, her tone somewhat disbelieving and hopeful. She dashed forwards, rummaging through her stash of medical supplies.

I couldn't figure out what was going on. How on earth would that work? Or do anything? Fortunately, Sue started explaining as she worked.

'Wolf blood! You have fast healing; it's built into your cells. If we inject her with it, it might have the same affect. Since Paul's her imprint, I'm guessing they'll be a genetic match, therefore her body should accept it.' For the first time since we'd brought Chloe in, Sue actually sounded optimistic.

And for the first time, I'd started to feel that way too.

* * *

It took just moments for Sue to find the syringe, sit Paul down, and jab him in the arm. My feeling of hope had somewhat diminished when Sue had muttered that we'd better hurry up, because Chloe was rapidly fading away. None of us wanted to consider the possibility that this wasn't going to work.

After what felt like no time at all, Sue was bustling around with a vial of Paul's blood. As she fumbled with her masses of equipment, she spoke some more.

'I doubt we'll be able to tell if this works or not. It won't be anywhere near as noticeable as it is for you. If we see any change, I'll be surprised. But hopefully, this will keep her heart going long enough.'

'It will work. It has to.' Paul's voice was almost pleading, and barely above a whisper. As Sue picked up yet another needle, I glanced at Paul, who had resumed his position holding Chloe's hand. She was so still, her breaths almost inaudible.

This was our last chance.


	40. Battle

**Chapter 40 - Battle**

_Paul's POV_

It didn't take long for the trembling to start. Minutes passed as I sat, watching her. So still, so lifeless, lying on the table. I was at war with myself; with the wolf. The urge to phase was fighting the pull of the imprint. To say that my emotions were out of control would be an understatement; I was consumed by them. Anger, fear, shock, worry, rage, guilt. On any normal day, any one of these would have easily pushed me over the edge; the edge between man and wolf.

But not today. Today, despite the fact that I felt as if I was about to explode from the pressure, from the sheer enormity of my emotions, I hadn't phased.

It was the imprint. It had me well and truly hooked, locked in every fibre of my being. Fighting it was like fighting an alpha order; painful and impossible. But the wolf was fighting it; even though I didn't want to.

She comes first. That was the fundamental law of imprinting. And the imprint was telling me that what she needed most was for me to stay right where I was. I couldn't agree more. The thought, however tentative, of leaving her side, of moving away even an inch, was torturous.

The wolf disagreed. The wolf was full of guilt, of anger, at failing to protect her. The wolf wanted to chase down that leech and destroy him; punish him for hurting her. It wanted to tear and rip and burn him until he was nothing but ash.

The two sides, wolf and imprint, were locked in a head on battle to the death. Conflicting, contradictory; I couldn't obey both. Up until now, the imprint had been winning.

She comes first. It had seized me, controlling me; what I was thinking, feeling, didn't matter. She did. The bond had trussed up the wolf, forcing him into a corner.

But the longer I was there, watching her, seeing what the bastard had done, the stronger the wolf grew. The imprint was no longer enough.

I was on the edge; anything could set me off.

And that anything turned out to be the arrival of the rest of the pack. I was trapped in my vigil, focused only on Chloe. I didn't know who spoke, but I heard their words.

'We lost him. H-'

Three words. Enough for the wolf to tear through the imprint. Whoever was speaking was cut off by the angry snarl that escaped me, as the light trembling quickly became wracking tremors. I pushed myself away from the table, aware enough to worry about her safety, before my vision became red.

I heard scrambling and shouting, before strong hands were pulling at me, roughly pushing me out the house as the shaking reached its peak and the wolf burst forth, snapping and growling as I landed.

Like an overflowing dam, by emotions surged into the forefront of my mind, quashing the imprint and its pull. I was out of control, seething with anger, rage dominating my whole being.

I was going to kill that leech.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

There was something digging into my finger. And it was really annoying.

I yearned to fling the annoyance away, to stop the poking that was irritating me beyond belief. My nerves were tingling, and the troublesome something was pulling me into consciousness.

But I didn't want to wake. I refused to. I wanted to go back to sleep. I was already half asleep. All I needed to do was to get rid of the irritation.

My middle finger was starting to twitch, and eventually I gave in to the desire to rip it away, my fingers spasmodically fidgeting with the source of my discomfort. I had no inclination to figure out what it was as my fingers came into contact with a smooth, plastic-like object; I was solely focused on getting the damn thing away from me.

After much fumbling, due to my strangely unresponsive fingers, I managed to free myself from it. Sighing in relief, I savoured the peace, immediately drifting off again.

But barely second later, a loud beeping started up, it's annoying digital tone permeating the air. And I'd thought the poking was irritating.

This beeping was unbearable. I wanted to cover my ears with my hands and curl up into a ball, but I could no longer feel my body. I wanted to yell out in frustration, but my mouth wouldn't open.

Why couldn't the world just let me sleep?

* * *

Not long after, a low murmuring began. It took me a while to figure out that the murmuring was actually voices, and once I started concentrating, I discovered I could hear what they were saying.

'-problem with the heart rate monitor.' The voice grew louder as it spoke, as did the one that responded.

'It's just fallen off.' I couldn't make sense of what they were saying. But confusion abruptly disappeared when a hand unexpectedly touched mine.

A small gasp escaped me, as my hand jerked slightly. I couldn't figure out how I had moved it, because I couldn't feel it.

The touch returned, but this time I was unable to withdraw my hand. The digging irritation returned, my middle finger once again tingling at the annoyance. However, the beeping immediately ceased, for which I was grateful.

At least the poking wasn't nearly as bad as the beeping.

'She moved!' The voice had returned, and for the first time I wondered if maybe they were talking about me. However, the voices soon became incomprehensible, and I forgot all about the strange notion that they were discussing me.

* * *

After what was probably about 5 minutes, I was seriously debating whether or not it was worth listening to the beeping again if I could get rid of the blasted thing that was attached to my hand. For some unknown reason, it annoyed me way more than any normal object should. My fingers were starting to twitch again, and in the end I just couldn't take it.

Frantically fumbling, I once more managed to free myself. And once again, I was greeted not with peaceful rest, but the terrible beeping.

I wanted to kill the machine that was the cause of that sound.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

I'd gotten to know the hospital pretty well over the last few days. I barely had to pay attention to where I was going anymore; the path had become sadly familiar. The staff all recognised me; yet more proof that I was spending way too much time here.

But there was no other choice.

To even leave the room required enormous will power. It was so difficult; I sometimes wondered why I bothered. But to stay was to put in her in danger. I was still being torn apart by the internal battle; the imprint versus the wolf. Every few hours, once I felt the wolf begin to take control, I fled, sometimes only just making the forest surrounding the hospital before I exploded into the wolf.

More than once, others in the pack had had to step in to stop me chasing down that leech and not resting until he was dead. I was now under alpha orders not to leave our territory, except for an attack. Chloe's brother, Matt, was under them as well. After several failed individual attempts, we'd joined forces. We had managed to pass the border before Sam had stopped us, all but dragging us back to La Push.

Matt and I were getting along better than ever now that we were both torn between worry and anger. Without the imprint keeping him calm, Matt had hardly been human at all over the last few days. Every time I phased, I could hear him, and we'd found we got along pretty well, my imprinting on his sister aside.

He was pretty pissed about that. I'd lost count of the number of times we'd brawled recently over the imprint. To say he wasn't happy was an understatement. I'd paid dearly for the kiss in that god forsaken cabin. It was good thing I was forced to wear a shirt for the hospital, because I was constantly scarred. With Matt able to hear my thoughts, I wasn't able to hide anything. Still, at least he knew I was just as worried for her as she was.

Mind sharing over the last couple of days had been torturous. The fact that Chloe was an imprint and Matt's sister aside, the events of late had hit everyone hard. It was one thing to know, to see via my thoughts, that one of ours had been taken by a leech. It was another thing entirely for him to start sucking the life out of her right in front of us.

Failure. That was the dominating idea that had overtaken the pack. We were protectors. We protected the tribe. But we hadn't been able to protect _her_. The urge to grovel and beg for her forgiveness had been felt by all, and more than once one of us would find ourselves circling the hospital, as if protecting her now would make up for not protecting her before.

The other imprinted wolves had found themselves reaching new levels of obsession over their other halves, the incident leaving us all wondering whether our constant patrolling was even worth a damn. Sam was usually pretty good at keeping his inner thoughts to himself, but that night had hit him hard, and with the thought of an imprint dying in the air, he'd lost that control. We'd had to endure a day's worth of wondering about whether or not he should just give up being alpha before Jared had stepped in, attacking him and telling him to pull himself together because we were all going crazy.

I'd never really had a good grasp on the concept of how the alpha worked in keeping us in line, but that day with Sam out of control had left us all floundering, feeling his pain like our own. If we'd been disorganised before, that was nothing compared to when Sam wasn't keeping a lock on us. When he finally got it together, we were all relieved; it was bizarre how much we were affected by whatever he was feeling or thinking.

Even after Sam got us all back on track, we were all still off kilter. Never before had Sam been forced to issue so many alpha orders. He'd forbidden everyone – myself excluded – from visiting, and had been forced to ban the rest of the pack from going within a quarter mile of the hospital, after Matt had tried to sit himself as close to her room as possible. Sam hadn't commanded me, though I was curious as to whether it would actually work; the imprint seemed to beat the wolf most of the time.

The imprint had one hell of strong grip, and the general consensus was that it was most certainly _not_ normal. But that wasn't that important to me at the moment. At the moment, the imprint bond had an iron clad grip on me, demanding that I spend every possible moment at her side.

Every second that I couldn't keep her in my sight was torturous. She filled my every thought, was the cause of every action. That was the worst part about the wolf constantly taking control. It meant constantly leaving her. Constantly having to force myself away. She was everything. Every moment that I wasn't raging through the forest, or trying to calm down so I could see her again, I was with her.

Her touch was the only thing that could console me.


	41. Waking

**Chapter 41 - Waking**

Her touch was the only thing that could console me.

For three days, I had sat by her side, holding her hand like it was the only thing keeping me alive. The need to hold her in my arms was growing by the hour, but the maze of tubes and equipment surrounding her made it impossible. Still, any contact was better than nothing.

Consumed by my thoughts, I didn't realise when I first entered that we weren't alone. The sound of voices cut through my musings, and I looked up in time to spy Dr Snow in conversation with one of the nurses.

I was just about to ask about Chloe, when one of her many machines began beeping. The nurse sighed, hurrying over.

'Not again!'

'What's going on? Is something wrong?' I asked anxiously, racing to Chloe's bedside. My heart was pounding, a sense of urgency filling me. Dr Snow spun to face me, and I took a little comfort from his unworried expression. The imprint wasn't telling me something was wrong, but that didn't really console me.

'Oh, hello Paul. Everything's fine. Actually, we've got some good news. It looks like she's starting to come out of the coma.' A grin burst to life on my face. I'd gone from worried as hell to delight in just seconds. My mind was reeling, almost hesitant to accept the news. After so much talk about how bleak it was looking, it seemed unreal.

'She's still got a fair way to go, so don't get too excited, but it's certainly an excellent start. The nurses have reported movement from her left hand.'

I could barely contain my excitement. I had hoped and hoped for this. I had desperately pleaded for her recovery. And now, after what had felt like forever, it seemed my suffering was going to end.

'That's great news!' I exclaimed, overjoyed. Walking over to the bed, and sitting myself in the chair I had claimed as mine over the last few days, I picked up Chloe's delicate hand, and kissed it gently. Glancing over at the nurse on the other side of Chloe, I saw her fussing with one of the many tubes and wires.

'Is there something wrong?' I asked again, though this time I wasn't nearly as anxious. The imprint bond, enhanced by our touch, was telling me she was fine.

Ever since that night, she had felt strangely neutral, her emotions locked away with her consciousness. But she was still calm, the feeling creeping over me as I sat, her hand held in mine.

'No, she's fine. But for some reason, she keeps unhooking herself from the heart monitor.'

At first I wasn't sure I'd heard right. But once I'd ascertained that I had indeed heard correctly, I had to fight the urge to laugh.

Even when comatose, she was still causing trouble in such unexpected ways.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

I'd been staring at the white ceiling for hours. For while I could now see out of my eyes, I wasn't able to move them. And seeing as I couldn't feel my head, and thus couldn't move it, I was stuck staring at this one spot.

The return of my vision had been slow. The never-ending blackness had slowly lightened to a dark grey, and from there it had transformed into the pristine white I now found myself fixated on.

I didn't want to see this. It meant I was no longer sleeping. And I really just wanted to sleep. The thought of waking was terrifying. I didn't know why, but it was. My brain, which was blissfully still unconscious, must have a reason. And I didn't want to wake up and find out what it was.

But waking seemed inevitable. Each minute, I felt myself growing closer, becoming more aware. Time had started to have meaning. The day before yesterday, I'd felt for the first time the newly washed sheets that covered me, stiff against my legs. Yesterday, I'd managed to scrunch my toes, luxuriating in my sudden ability to move something. And today, my vision had returned. Kind of.

While my slow waking might seem snail pace to someone fully functioning, to me it was progressing at an alarmingly fast rate. Because tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, could be the day I got my brain back.

And I dreaded that with all my heart.

* * *

Thankfully, today wasn't the day. I was still blissfully unaware of the world around me. However, for the first time, I noticed a presence.

I felt them enter the room, which was weird. How could you feel someone when you weren't touching? I was confused for a moment, before the thought disappeared, and I returned to my ramblings.

Like how comfortable this pillow was. Sure, it wasn't fluffy, as was my preference, but boy did it have top quality stuffing. It was so squishy, I was sinking into it. I was kind of worried that I could now feel the pillow, because it meant I was getting closer to full consciousness, but it was so luxurious, I quickly lost track of any worrisome thoughts.

The person, whoever they were, had sat down in a chair on my right; I couldn't see them, but I could hear the sound of protest the chair made at the new weight. Even though I knew someone was there, I was still surprised when a warm hand suddenly touched mine.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding, strangely calmed by the contact. It was as if I'd been waiting for them to come to see me. After a few seconds thought, I began to wonder if perhaps that throw away remark was actually the truth. I dimly remembered something warm on my hand, several times before, though it had been so faint, I hadn't noticed.

Maybe I really _had_ been waiting for this person to return. How bizarre. I still didn't know who it was, for heaven's sake.

Their hand wrapped around mine, fingers tracing over my hand in a mesmerizing pattern. It sent a shiver though me, but I could feel it only distantly. As I revelled in the pleasure brought to me by the gentle hand, a name snuck into my mind, a whisper of a thought that I almost didn't pick up on.

_Paul._

The name was unfamiliar. Did I even know a Paul? I thought there were bells ringing in the back of my head, but I couldn't quite reach the elusive knowledge. Disgruntled, I mentally floundered, until-

Flash. A memory surfaced, there for less than a second. I had barely had time to look at the face that had filled it. But I had the overall impression that he was pretty good looking. I would have smiled, if I'd been able to.

Flash. Another half-second image. This time I saw briefly the same man, though I seemed to be looking upwards at him, his bare chest dominating the image. Wow, he had great abs. And he was so tanned. He moved up from good looking to hot on my attractiveness scale.

Flash. This memory lasted longer. I was in his arms, his hug full of a searing warmth and strength that was crushing. Apparently we were close. Friends, maybe? Or something more? I was excited at the prospect.

Flash. His hands on my waist, my hand on his neck as I pulled him close, our lips meeting. Tingles flooded through me, a giddy happiness that swirled around in my stomach. I gripped his hand in response to the rush of emotions that flooded through me at the memory.

He froze at my sudden movement, and I had to admit, even I was surprised; I hadn't known I was able to move that hand. Simultaneously amazed, happy and worried, I began to run my fingers over his hand, in a sort of role reversal.

It had been so long since I'd touched anyone of my own will. It was strange to suddenly be able to move, my small hand trailing over his much larger one. I marvelled at the heat that his skin held, the warmth making me crave his touch. As I laced my fingers through his, he responded, gripping my hand with a strength that surprised me.

Wanting him closer, I pulled my hand towards me. He released his grip, but I strengthened my hold, pulling his hand with mine until his hand cupped my cheek. I sighed with contentment, filled with happiness at his touch.

I never wanted him to leave.


	42. Panic

**Chapter 42 - Panic**

I sat up with a gasp as I blinked, snapping into alertness immediately.

Demetri. Where was he?

I glanced around frantically, eyes searching the darkness; there was no one to be found. But that didn't stop my heart from racing faster and faster as I sat there, expecting him to jump out at any moment.

I began trembling, the fear overwhelming as the urge to run grew within me. But run where? I didn't even know where I was!

Looking around again, but this time observing my surroundings, it took my jittery brain longer than usual to determine that I was in a hospital. Trying to calm my breathing as it headed towards hyperventilation, I couldn't avoid the sudden terror that bloomed as my mind started fully functioning.

Oh my god. Please, please don't make me be in Italy. Panicking was inevitable now, as my chest heaved, and my eyes continually darted around, my ears pealed for the hint of his presence.

Hospital. I could escape a hospital. I could do this. I still had a chance.

Having talked myself into my plan, I nervously and somewhat shakily began to move. Attempting to get off the bed, I let out a gasp of pain as I moved my left arm. My head jerkily turned, my eyes locking onto the tube that was inserted in the crook of my arm.

An IV. Oh my god. I was stuck.

No. It was just plastic. I could pull it out. I could do this.

But as much as I tried to convince myself to move my hand and get it off, I couldn't. The panic was paralysing, my vision beginning to blur, dizziness setting in.

I couldn't do this. I was doomed. He was going to come. He was going to bite me.

I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming. _He was going to bite me!_ As quickly as the dizziness had come, it vanished. I_ had_ to get out of here.

The thought of another bite was petrifying. I would do _anything_ not to be bitten again. Shaking more violently now, I gripped the tube near where it entered my arm, my fingers barely able to grip it.

I had to do this. The alternative was unbearable. I shivered violently as I remembered the pain. Terrible pain. Agony. Burning.

No. I had to snap out of it. Now or never. With a whimper I yanked out the tube, still shaking and panting as fear tied my stomach in knots. Tossing it aside carelessly, I tried not to look at my left arm, and the beads of blood that were forming where the tube had been. I unclipped the wire attached to my finger, and winced at the beeping sound that resulted.

Once again frantic in my movements, I scrambled to the right side of the bed, my limbs moving slowly and sluggishly. My heart was pounding like crazy, its beats loud in my ears as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, frenziedly trying to escape the sheet and blanket that had been draped over me.

As I flung the trapping bed linen away from me, I lurched forward, gasping as my feet hit the cold floor. I pushed away from the bed, and I began to fall, unable to balance myself. Panicking, I lunged for a nearby chair, semi crashing into it as I managed to avoid falling to the floor.

Almost hyperventilating, and half expecting to feel cold hands gripping me at any moment, I tried standing up slowly this time. I succeeded in keeping on my feet, albeit swaying unsteadily. Slowly stepping away from the chair, I kept my balance, staying upright.

I could do this. I could escape. I would be safe.

I kept up a running litany of motivation as I stepped, my movements agonisingly slow. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was running out of time; that he was going to find me. Panic once again consumed me, overriding logic as I broke into a walk, swaying and wobbling and tripping as I went.

More than once I found myself latching onto walls for support, before heading off again, my eyes constantly on the move as they searched for him. Demetri. My worst fear.

Finally making it to the door, I scrabbled at the handle, shaking so badly that my trembling fingers couldn't grip it. I let out a whimper as tears of frustration and fear began to flow, and my heart somehow managed to beat even faster, despite the fact that it was already racing.

He was coming. He was going to find me. He was going to bite me!

'No. No. _No!_' I was muttering now, the last word a desperate exclamation as I leaned against the door, fumbling wildly until I managed to get it open. Falling forwards as the door opened, I staggered into the hallway, eyes wide and darting.

After the darkness of my room, the lights were too bright, which only served to disorient me further. There was no one around, but that only scared me more. Surely, in a normal hospital, there should be nurses, cleaners, someone! Severely freaked out now, I hurried down the hallway, the cold linoleum reflecting the fluorescent light so that everything seemed to have that otherworldly glow.

It reminded me of Demetri, the eerie white light matching the pallor of his skin; the thought caused me to shiver in fear, letting out a small, scared moan. I stayed by the wall as I walked unsteadily, my hand trailing along it to help me keep my balance.

I was terrified of encountering somebody else in the hallway, but at the same time, I was desperate to find somebody, anybody, to help me. I desperately needed to know where I was. The thought that I could be in Italy was haunting me, pervading my subconscious, and enhancing my already extreme level of distress. I couldn't get my head thinking straight, my thoughts stuck in despair mode. I was sure that I kept hearing footsteps, or saw somebody flash past me with vampiric speed.

I knew I was probably hallucinating, but my mind was beyond reason. Utterly terrified, I began to run, my hair whipping wildly about me as my head constantly rotated, searching my surroundings for the source of the footsteps. I was sure they were real.

Finally reaching an adjoining corridor, I slightly skidded around the corner, before staggering to an abrupt stop, as a shriek of surprise and terror escaped my lips.

There was somebody there. Several people filled the hallway, all dressed in the white and baby blue I associated with nurses and doctors. I briefly considered turning back, but that would only lead me to my bed, and that was the first place Demetri would look.

Demetri. A terrifying vision filled my head, a horrifying snarl on his face; his eyes alight with anger as he advanced on me. I whimpered, walking forwards again, stepping haphazardly. I was vaguely aware that my shout had probably alerted everyone to my presence, but I was beyond rational thinking.

Everything was too much. The tears were flowing fast now, hot against my cheeks as I was wracked with sobs. I was shaking so much now that the corridor seemed to be trembling, and I tripped, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

It was too late. He was here. I was doomed. I would never escape. Trapped in an eternity of pain, constantly bitten. I let out a wail, but my voice had gone, and it was barely audible.

I could distantly hear voices and footsteps, but everything was muddled, and overall it came across as a loud roar. I knew that I had to get up, had to get away from him, but I was too consumed by the sobs that were overwhelming me.

My tears had filled my eyes, and everything was blurry. I managed to raise my head, and I thought I saw a group of figures coming towards me. Instantly petrified, I scrambled to my feet, but before I could fully stand up, I was falling forward again, hitting the ground hard. Even though I was desperate to get up and run as far away as I could, for some reason, my arms and legs were refusing to move.

It was infuriating. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't move. It only made me sob harder, the panic all consuming.

I couldn't be captured again. It was too much. The pain. The bite. I couldn't stand it!

I wanted to scream my head off, to let out the pent up emotion that was taking control. I wanted to pound on the floor in anger. I wanted this horrible nightmare to end.

But as a pair of hands suddenly lifted me up, I knew the truth; I was never going to get away from him.

Too surprised to scream, I simply cried harder, but my cries were soon muffled as I was pressed against a man's solid chest. His arms encircled me, but I fought, my hands clawing at his chest, the warmth shocking compared to the cold floor I'd been lying on.

Wait a second. Something wasn't right. Demetri wasn't warm; he was ice cold.

But then who was holding me?

'Chloe.' Almost as if he'd heard my thoughts, his voice cut through my mental meanderings, worried and careful. I knew instantly who it was.

'_Paul._' My voice was barely a whisper; I was shaking so much I could barely get my mouth to work. Despite his touch, I was still terrified; I sure that Demetri was coming for me.

'He's coming.' My voice was louder now, fuelled by my panic. My eyes were still streaming tears, so even as I glanced around, paranoid, I couldn't see anything.

'We need to leave. _We have to go!_' I was totally freaking out. I could feel Demetri's cold touch on my bare arm, his breath on my ear as he whispered.

'It's time, my sweet.' I let out a horrified yell at the venom and anticipation in his words.

'No. Paul, help me!' I half shouted, half sobbed, barely noticing as Paul swept me up into his arms, carrying me. I thought I heard him speak, but it was distant and inaudible.

What seemed to be just seconds later, his hold was loosening, and he was pulling away. I resisted fiercely, clutching at him desperately.

'No! Don't leave me! _He's going to get me!_' He couldn't leave! I needed him. He was the only thing that could save me. He was my only chance.

But I needed him for more than just escaping. I needed him because the thought of him leaving was almost worse than the thought of Demetri finding me. Because every moment we weren't touching, I longed for the moment when we would touch again. Because he was the only one keeping me from diving head first back into unconsciousness.

I needed him here, next to me. And I needed him to never leave.


	43. Hysteria

**Chapter 43 - Hysteria**

I woke slowly, reluctantly. I didn't want to move from this position. Ever.

It was just so comfortable. And so warm! Maybe they had electric blankets or something? Whatever it was, I wanted one for my bed.

It was a wonderful feeling, to wake up warm for once. No cold warehouses. No deserted cabins. And no Demetri.

Demetri. My good mood instantly flew out the window. All my hopes for a nice, gentle wake up were gone, as I found myself already on red alert. Eyes flying open, I sat up with a start.

Or rather, I attempted to sit up. I had barely raised myself two inches before I found myself forced back down by a strong arm around my waist. I gasped, about to shriek in surprise, but a warm hand snuck over my mouth, muffling my exclamation.

I hadn't even known there was somebody next to me! How did I not notice?! And, more importantly, who the hell was it?!

I twisted awkwardly, trying to get away from the mysterious stranger, but they had me trapped. Our bodies were pressed together from head to toe, our legs strangely tangled, his hands entwined with mine. My head rested on his chest, my left arm splayed across his stomach, his right arm ensnaring my waist.

All in all, we were a jumbled up mess, and it was _way _too intimate. It felt like exactly the kind of thing Demetri would do; in fact, he'd done several very similar things. Thus I was fairly sure he was the culprit.

In the back of my mind, I noted that it was unlikely, because Demetri was cold and at the moment I was toasty warm, but I wasn't in the right mental state for rational reasoning.

I continued to squirm, my certainty of Demetri's presence quickly causing my initial panic to grow, quickly dominating my thoughts and body. I could hear my shaky breaths increasing in pace, my heart racing in response.

What I hadn't realised, was that while fear had slowly started overwhelming me, the stranger had begun speaking.

'-to relax. You're safe. It's just me. Just Paul.' I was quick to dismiss the majority of his words; as if I would ever be safe again. As if I could relax because Demetri wasn't here right this second. But those last words, they meant something.

Just Paul.

_Just Paul._

I wasn't lying next to a vampire. I wasn't trapped by a vampire. I was with Paul.

And it wasn't angry Paul. It wasn't werewolf Paul. It wasn't mean Paul.

It was just Paul.

And I was happy he was here. As the knowledge sunk in, I felt myself relax, felt my tense limbs loosen, and turn to jelly. My breaths deepened and slowed, and I craned my neck, awkwardly twisting until I could see his face; I had to be sure it was him. Despite what my body was telling me, despite the imprint leaving me with a strange contentment that contrasted with my mood, I had to _see_ him.

He was looking down at me, his expression unreadable, because it seemed to mix so many emotions at once. I let out a sigh as I saw a small smile appear on his lips; he was happy to see me! I quickly squashed down the part of my brain that revelled in this; now was not the time to deal with that relationship. There were far more important things to worry about.

'Where is he?' I croaked, my throat dry as sand paper. I was a little surprised when the words escaped my lips; that wasn't what I had been intending to say. Paul's face twisted, flashes of anger and hesitance briefly appearing before he adopted a blank expression.

'Chloe-' I could tell instantly by his tone – careful and wary – that he didn't want to answer my question. My eyes narrowed slightly, as my heart stuttered; what was he avoiding?

'_Where is he?_' Panic was evident in my frantic whisper as I cut him off, my eyes whipped around the room.

'He's gone.' I gave him a look, before attempting to sit up again. His arm tightened around my waist, but I gently tried to pry it off, now giving him a glare that clearly said _don't you dare mess with me right now_. He reluctantly loosened his grip, allowing me to sit up, but his hand stayed on my right hip. My eyes continued to dart around the room, as I responded.

'No he's not. He'd never leave.' I said darkly, turning to face Paul, my legs twisting with difficulty under the blankets before allowing me to face him. Why was he doing this? Surely he knew I wouldn't believe his lies? Did he not understand?

'Chloe, you're safe. You don't need to worry about this. You should be resting. It doesn't-' His hands had grabbed mine as he spoke, enveloping them; mine were tiny in comparison. But at his last few words I stiffened, pulling away, my eyes flashing.

'Doesn't what, Paul? Doesn't matter?' My voice was cold as I spoke, once again cutting him off, but it broke on the last word. Paul's face quickly became consumed with alarm as he realised that he had just said something that he _definitely_ should not have.

'Chloe…' He sat up slowly as he said my name, somehow making it seem like a warning, but at the same time, still sounding consoling. He reached for me again, hands reaching for my waist, but my arm surged forwards to block his, stopping him.

'Don't you dare.' I hissed, anger and emotion boiling within me. I detachedly recognised that he had let me stop him, but I didn't care. My eyes were deadly as they stared into his.

'How could you say that, Paul?' My voice was thick with emotion, my eyes beginning to fill with tears.

'You were there! You saw, you-' My hands gestured wildly as I tried and failed to finish my sentence. I had to be careful that I didn't catch my IV on anything; it was once again inserted in my left arm. I felt a single tear fall down my cheek, and I brushed it away before continuing.

'You have no idea. No idea. You don't know what it was like. What he did…' I trailed off as the tears began flowing, for a moment no longer seeing the room before me. Instead, I was seeing him. Demetri. A sob escaped my lips, and I jerked back to reality, Paul's hand snapping forwards to gently touch my right forearm. I let out a small shriek, scrambling backwards as he pulled away. But there was no room to move back, and I was trapped, Paul just inches away now, looming over me.

It was too much. I felt something snap, felt my control slip. I wanted to rage. I wanted to vent. I wanted to get away, to run, to just leave everything. My emotions, bottled up, were surging to the surface, and then suddenly they burst forth, in a roiling tirade.

'No! Don't touch me! You don't understand!' I yelled, my tears hot and fast, blurring my vision.

'HE TOUCHED ME! HE TORTURED ME! DAYS AND DAYS OF NOTHING BUT COLD! ENDLESS DAYS OF CHAINS AND SHACKLES AND _IMPRISONMENT!_ NO ONE BUT HIM, DELIGHTING IN MY PAIN!' I barely noticed as Paul defied my protests and pulled me close, my legs straddling him as his hands restrained my flailing arms. My hands pushed on his chest, distancing us as I continued.

'THE _BITE_! TERRIBLE AGONY. EXCRUCIATING PAIN. BURNING! BURNING ME ALIVE, AND NEVER STOPPING! EVERY DAY! SUFFERING AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN! WANTING TO DIE! WISHING FOR SOMETHING, ANYTHING, TO END IT!' I was clinging to him now, my hands clenching his arms like my life depended on it.

'I TRIED! I TRIED TO ESCAPE! HOURS OF TEARING, CLAWING, PULLING! BUT HE WAS ALWAYS THERE! MOCKING ME! TAUNTING ME! I WAS SO CLOSE! BUT HE FOUND ME! HE PUNISHED ME! MORE PAIN!' Paul was murmuring to me, his hands on my cheeks. I resisted, shaking my head to and fro, still trying to pull away.

'AND YOU! YOU WERE THERE! AND YOU DARE TO EVEN _THINK_ IT DOESN'T MATTER?! YOU THINK I'LL JUST FORGET?! YOU THINK THERE'S EVEN A CHANCE I'LL GET OVER IT?!' My voice was well and truly hysterical as I screamed.

'DO YOU THINK I'LL EVER SLEEP SOUND AGAIN?! DO YOU THINK I WON'T SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE IN FEAR?! BECAUSE I WILL, PAUL! I WILL! I WILL NEVER ESCAPE! I CAN _NEVER_ GET OVER THIS!'

I was breaking down, falling apart. Tremors ripped through me, my heart pounding, sobs wracking my form. Somehow, though the muddle of sounds and voices that filled my ears, I managed to hear Paul, hear his gentle voice.

'Chloe, you need to calm down.'

'CALM DOWN?! YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN?! I WILL _NOT_! I WILL NOT CALM DOWN! I-'

I broke off with a gasp, as something sharp jabbed into my arm. I let out a small sigh as a strange feeling of floating stole over me, my anger and rage dissipating instantly. The muddle of voices became even more jumbled, yet still I could hear Paul.

'You can rest now, Chloe.' My limbs began to melt, and I felt myself give up, falling forward into Paul's chest. I felt my breath huff out as I fell, and then I was gone, disappearing into the darkness.


	44. Reality

**Chapter 44 - Reality**

Pain.

That was the first thing I registered when I woke. Every part of me ached. I groaned unhappily, rolling over into my back. Bad idea.

The simple movement left me gasping, as pain flared up, my body protesting the action. I groaned again, squeezing my eyes shut tighter, hoping I could just fall asleep again.

Being awake didn't seem like it was going to be very much fun right now.

It didn't help that my mind was a confusing whirlwind as it tried to sort through the flood of memories that was consuming me. So many experiences, conversations; things I'd said and done that I couldn't remember doing. Trying to figure out what was imagined, and what was real.

If I was lucky, I would wake up. I would wake up to find out that this had all been a dream; been a terrible nightmare. Horrible, but not real. But though I hoped, though I wished for that to be the case, I knew better. I had a scar on my arm that was undeniable proof.

Almost inadvertently, my right hand traced the two crescents. They were still there. They would always be there. A constant reminder of what had happened.

That thought stopped me. What _had_ happened? I opened my eyes, hoping to see something that would clue me in. I couldn't make out much in the semi-darkness, but I saw enough to piece together my location; a hospital.

Not helpful. Flashes of me being in a hospital surfaced, but they were unfamiliar; I couldn't remember being in a hospital. But I could remember fire.

I could remember darkness. Pain. Sand.

Sand? My eyes crinkled in confusion; how the heck was sand involved? It seemed ridiculous, but for some bizarre reason, I was confident that sand was relevant.

Gah, this was all so difficult! _Why_ couldn't I remember? All this thinking was giving me an even worse head ache.

As much as I would have loved to just roll over and forget the whole thing, I couldn't. My mind was fixated on it, obsessed. Endless memories, disjointed fragments that I couldn't make sense of. It was too much.

I felt as if I was spinning, my head pounding from the overload. My hand flew to my neck as I grasped for my necklace, my wolf charm, the need to hold something, to ground myself, overwhelming. My desperate fingers finally grabbed it, and I hissed in pain as something sharp pricked me.

Looking downwards, I pulled the wolf away from my neck, shocked to see that I had only half. It had been broken, torn apart, the jagged edge responsible for jabbing me.

And in a flood, it all came back to me. My eyes widened as I gasped, suddenly putting the pieces together.

My hand, hacking at the little wooden figurine with a rock. Me, snapping the one thing that was keeping me alive.

Me, giving up my life for the pack.

Yet here I was. Alive. Why was alive? I shouldn't be alive! My head was reeling, my mouth parting in confusion.

Nothing made sense.

Absorbed in the confusion, I had barely noticed a warm hand grabbing mine. The heat was searing, momentarily plucking me from my bewilderment as I turned my head to the right.

Paul was lying next to me, looking at me with concern. Too engrossed in trying to figure out what had happened, I didn't question why he was here or what he was doing in my bed. All I wanted was an explanation, because the onslaught of ideas and flashes was giving me migraine.

'What happened?' My voice was quiet, almost a whisper. I blinked frantically, trying to distance myself from the perplexing images. I yanked myself back to reality, trying to ignore my thumping head ache. Paul was giving me a confused look, and I bit my lip; how the heck was supposed to explain this?

'I don't remember. I don't know what happened. I broke the charm. I was dying...' I trailed off, no longer staring at Paul; I was staring into my memories. The bonfire, the fighting, my shout, and then nothing. Again and again, always cutting off. It was infuriating.

Paul once again cut through my daze, sitting upwards and pulling me up with him. I whined at the pain, my body protesting. My head throbbed worse than ever, and the world spun for a moment before snapping back into focus. Paul had taken my hands in his, shifting so that we were face to face. I could tell from his expression that he didn't think talking was a good idea.

'Paul, I _need_ to know. It can't wait. And if you won't tell me, I'll walk right out of here and find someone who will.'

* * *

'I still don't think he would have left until I was _actually_ dead.' I insisted.

Paul and I had been arguing for a while now. I just couldn't believe that Demetri would leave me while I was alive. He'd been more than clear that if anybody was going to hurt me, it was going to be him, and I was fairly sure that extended to death as well. If I had to die, I was certain he would be the one to do it.

Paul disagreed, but he didn't have the experience I did. Still, he had saved me.

Wolf blood. It was ingenious. How the hell he had come up with it, I had _no_ idea. But while I was happy to be alive, I didn't feel safe. I didn't care if Demetri thought I was dead; I couldn't get rid of the feeling that he was still after me.

Though I had to admit, Paul had a pretty good argument. It had been almost two weeks since the bonfire. He reasoned that if Demetri knew I was alive, he would have come by now. It made sense, but while I wanted to believe I was free, I couldn't. Not completely.

I'd finally figured out why I had weird memories of being in hospital; the weird feeling surrounding them due to me being only partly sane and awake at the time. I felt slightly guilty about shouting at Paul, but I thought I was more than entitled to a breakdown.

My memories had sorted themselves out somewhat, thankfully. They were still there; ready to pop up and haunt me if something brought them to mind, but not overwhelming. Small victories, I guess.

I had been interested to discover that the pack had been banned from even approaching the hospital; I couldn't quite understand it. Apart from Matt, Paul, and maybe Quil, why would they be interested in seeing me? Paul had tried to explain, but it still didn't quite make sense; it wasn't their fault I had been kidnapped. I couldn't grasp the logic, but maybe you had to be a wolf to understand.

Still, one thing I had understood was that everybody was going to be super protective; they wanted to make up for letting me be taken. Before, I would have groaned at the invasion of privacy, but now I welcomed it; it would be a long time before I felt safe again, but knowing the pack was near would help.

However, the injunction meant that I couldn't see my brother. Matt. I missed him. I was sure that he had a legendary lecture to deliver when we met, but after the separation, I was almost looking forward to it. Matt yelling at me, being protective of me, was normal. And I needed normal; badly.

But though Matt wasn't here, I had Paul. Paul, who had been here for almost the entire two weeks. Paul, who the staff had allowed to sleep in my bed. I had been eager to discover how the heck he had pulled it off. Apparently, I had refused to let him leave. Once the nurses had discovered he was the only one who could keep me calm, they had allowed him to stay. I'd thought that still seemed a bit dubious, until Paul had referred to particular freak out of mine that I couldn't remember. He hadn't given me details, but apparently I had been 'severely distressed', the whole thing so extreme the staff had been willing to allow anything that would help me.

His ability to calm me had inevitably led to a conversation about the imprint. We had both carefully avoided the topic of how I found out about the imprint; I was terrified to talk about anything that had happened that week, and Paul must have picked up on my discomfort.

We had spent a fair amount of time dissecting the imprint. To say it was a confused mess would be an understatement; neither of us understood any of it. Maybe Sam would know something; he knew more than anyone.

If only all this talking had helped my headache. I was no longer being consumed by the myriad of memories, but my head was pounding worse than ever. Exhaustion was creeping over me, which was weird, because I'd only been awake for a few hours. Paul had said it was normal; that my body was weak from the coma. Normal or not, I refused to sleep. I wanted to keep talking.

Talking with Paul was effortless, comforting. It was a distraction, and it was safe. He knew, instinctively, to avoid anything to do with that week. This conversation was like the one we'd had in the woods, when I'd been hallucinating; it was different from before my kidnap. And I liked it.

But it hadn't escaped my notice – or Paul's – that over that last hour I'd slowly but surely been drooping, unable to hold myself upright. Before I knew it, I was leaning on him, using his shoulder to hold myself up. But soon even that wasn't enough.

I was barely conscious when I finally collapsed, and just moments later, I was asleep.


	45. Want

**Chapter 45 - Want**

_Paul's POV_

The wolf and the imprint had finally stopped fighting.

It had been sudden, an unexpected merging as the wolf meshed with the imprint; my rolling anger no longer triggering the urge to phase, but a new urge, one far more powerful. Something had snapped, something had changed in her, and I had responded, consumed by an unresistable need.

Protect her.

That was all I could think, all that mattered. And it was only when she was in my arms, when I could feel her, touch her, that the uncontrollable urge was even somewhat satisfied. Sometimes it would take hours before reason returned, before I could stand to let her go.

It was all dependent on her.

It had started that day; the day when she had been uncontrollable, panic ruling her at a level I'd never seen before. Her emotions hitting me like a sledgehammer, repeatedly slamming into me, a wild torrent of fear, anger, pain and desperation; everything I was supposed to protect her from.

It had been too much. Her emotions triggering my own, enhancing them, anger searing through me, more than enough for me to phase right then and there. Then there was the imprint, gripping me in a choke hold, fighting the wolf. The two at odds, as they usually were. And then I had snapped.

All of my emotions, the crazed wolf, suddenly no longer trying to break through. Directed, instead, at her. The wolf needed what the imprint needed, combining into a pull that had made me stagger under its weight.

Protect her.

It had been terrible. She had been screaming, her pain, her anguish so strong, so forceful. I had seen it in her eyes as she fought to escape. And I had seen that she had no idea what was happening. She was in her mind, in her memories, reliving part of that horrible week. She was beyond reason, beyond anything; she wasn't even present in reality.

It had gone on for hours. Long, never ending, torturous hours. At every scream I gripped her tighter, pulled her closer. The whole time wondering, imagining, what exactly had happened. What terrible ordeal had she experienced, that had driven her to this level of panic. It was ingrained in her, part of her.

It was all because of _him_. That _leech_. It was times like this when the desire to kill him was at its strongest. But the pull, the urge for her, flattened this impulse. The need pulverized anything and everything except for her.

In a bizarre twist that made no sense, I was now in better control of my phasing than ever.

It was the imprint that I had no control over now.

We both had two sides. If she was normal, if she was happy, then I was normal. If she was in control, I was in control. But if she was scared, if she was in pain, I was a mess. She went out of control, consumed by her emotions, her memories, and I followed. The urge took hold, I snapped, and I lost control. It was amazing how closely tied we were.

Either both in control, or both lost.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

I woke to the gentle touch of Paul, his fingers delicately tracing patterns on my arm. The light brushing of his fingertips sent tingles through me, and I had to fight the urge to grin stupidly at the feeling of pleasure his touch elicited.

Not for the first time, I wondered about the strange affect he had on me. I hadn't even opened my eyes, yet I knew immediately who was lying next to me. My body recognised him, on a deep, subconscious level. But aside from instantly knowing when he was near, I needed him.

That night, when I had first woke, and plunged head first into a panic attack; I had clung to him, desperate. I had trusted him, had held onto him for dear life. And in the woods, despite the danger, I hadn't been able to stop myself from going to find him, somehow knowing where he was. When I had woken in the cabin, to find him gone, I had yearned for him, needing him to be there.

And when I had been forced to accept he wasn't there, the crushing loneliness, the incompleteness, had been overwhelming. I had worried for him, aching at the thought of him being hurt. When I had seen him trapped in the cabin, my heart had leapt into my throat, clenching painfully in my chest.

I knew Paul had imprinted on me. But this was something else entirely. Whatever we had between us was something stronger; much stronger.

It was bewildering; like Paul and me. In the week leading up to my…disappearance, we had acted as pretty much the opposite of imprints. I'd lost count of the number of times we had argued, insulted, and shouted at each other. More than once, Paul had been violent, charging after me in his rage. It didn't make sense. Everyone had told me that the wolves protected their imprints; did anything for their imprints.

To say I was confused would be an understatement. Our imprint bond, or whatever it was that was tying us together, was ridiculously powerful, and yet we had clashed so strongly upon meeting. Here we were, the imprints with the strongest bond, and what had seemed to be the worst relationship.

But why was it that we had clashed? What was it about him, about me, that had forced us head to head? I couldn't help but reflect on the comment I had made to Paul, in our conversation after he had first found me. I had been delirious and hallucinating, and had been more honest and open than I would have usually.

_You're weird. Sometimes too weird. Sometimes too angry. But fun to fight with._

My addled and confused brain had somehow come up a line that described Paul perfectly. And with one alteration, it could describe me perfectly too. Because while I wouldn't consider myself angry, I was emotional; more so recently thanks to a certain vampire.

Perhaps I was just imagining this. Maybe I was making connections that didn't exist. Because right here, right now, it seemed like maybe Paul and I weren't as miss-matched as I'd thought. Both strong willed; both easily upset. And in my case, and maybe his too, always up for a fight. When simplified, brought down to our essentials, we were more than just similar; we were almost identical.

But whether I was making this all up or not, I couldn't deny the fact that I didn't really care. Deep down, I wanted us to be together. And it wasn't just because of the imprint.

It was because he had come for me. He had given me hope. He had protected me. He had fought for me. He had seen part of the horror I had experienced. And he had stayed, after I had been freed. He had been constant, always there. And despite my mental instability, never once had he been anything other than exactly what I needed.

And while I knew that was the essence of the imprint – to be what they needed – I didn't think it was the imprint forcing him to do it. Not completely, at least. Because for the week that had followed our meeting – and the imprint – he had had no trouble whatsoever acting as if nothing had happened. No, these actions were at least, in part, his own.

So regardless of whatever supernatural bonds and events were at play, and whether or not either of us was thinking straight and of our own volition, I had made my decision.

Because what it really came down to was just us. Paul and Chloe. And whether or not we wanted to be together.

And I knew, despite having _no_ idea whether or not he wanted me, that I sure as hell wanted him.

* * *

It didn't take me long to fully wake up; Paul's electrifying touch, combined with my way too active mind, were quick to drag me from the edge of sleep. My eyes scanned the room, quick to find the clock hanging on the wall opposite my bed. It was dark, but after a great deal of squinting and head titling, I managed to make out the time.

4.30. I groaned.

'Please tell me that it's 4.30 in the afternoon, and _not _4.30 in the morning_._' I said pleadingly, and Paul laughed, his eyes bright.

'It's morning. Sorry.' I groaned again at his response, snuggling into his side, planning to hide under the blankets until a more suitable time for waking up arrived. 4.30. What kind of god awful time was 4.30? It was almost criminal to be awake at this hour. I wasn't going to move until at least 7.00. If I was _really_ lucky, I might fall asleep in the process, but I doubted it.

Not just because I was wide awake, but because Paul seemed determined not to leave me to my moping.

'Chloe, what are you doing?' His voice was faint and muffled by the bed linen.

'It's 4.30, Paul. In the _morning_. It's too early.' I complained, slapping his hand away as he tried to pull the blanket down over my head.

'It's not _that_ bad.'

'Oh, I strongly disagree. It's horrible.'

'No, it's not.'

'Yes, it is.'

'It's _not_ horrible.' Sometime during our bickering he had stopped drawing patterns on my arm.

'Why isn't it horrible, then?' I asked, holding the blanket down as he once again tried to uncover me. I was curious, I'll admit, because I couldn't come up with anything. There was a silence before he answered, and I wondered at his hesitance.

'It's not horrible, because you have me here with you.'

My lungs froze mid-breath, my eyes flying open. I was temporarily stunned, which was time enough for him to peel back the layers of linen I had hidden myself under. My face was still hidden, and I had no idea what expression it bore. A flood of emotions was running through me, as I slowly raised my head to look at Paul. He had a neutral expression, but I had a feeling that he was experiencing the same multitude of emotions.

'Here as what?' I whispered, nervousness suddenly creeping into me. I really hoped I wouldn't have to explain what I meant by those simple words. I was still reeling over how we'd changed topics so quickly.

'As whatever you need.' It was the default imprint definition, and told me nothing of what he was really thinking. Suddenly, the _need_ to know what he felt grew within me, an urge I couldn't resist. I needed to know if any of this was real. I needed to know if the imprint was controlling him more than I'd thought.

I needed to know if he wanted me.

I knew what I wanted him to say. I hoped that his actions in saving me from Demetri, in fighting for me, meant that he was going to say it. For some reason, I no longer cared about how vulnerable I was going to make myself by forcing an answer out of him. I didn't care that I was risking the only thing that was keeping me grounded, keeping me sane.

I had to know.

'What am I to you, Paul?' I asked, my voice still a whisper. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what I was about to say, before continuing, my voice strong. I marvelled at the fact that it didn't tremble, because inside I was shaking, hardly able to believe that I was doing this.

'Ignore the imprint for a second. Forget all about it. And just tell me, what do _you_ want?'

'Because I want you, Paul. And I need to know if you want me too.'

There. I'd said it.

His eyes bore into mine, the heat of his gaze searing. I desperately needed him to respond, but he was just staring at me, his face still unreadable. My heart was racing, my whole body on edge. I was breathing fast, but I couldn't seem to get enough air.

And then suddenly he was moving, the hand that had been gently tracing on my arm sliding around my waist, his other hand cupping the back of my neck as he pulled me forwards, our lips lightly brushing. Then he was kissing me, and I was kissing him, his lips gentle and warm against mine. And it didn't matter that we were kissing in a hospital bed or that it was 4.30 in the morning, because everything but Paul just disappeared.

There was him, and only him.

Too soon, we broke apart, our faces barely an inch away from each other. My lips tingled, and Paul's breath was warm as he whispered.

'Does that answer your question?' I couldn't help but smile as I responded.

'Maybe.' He laughed, shifting his hand from my neck to my cheek, caressing it. Once again his light touch sent shivers through me, and I sighed in contentment. He pulled me forward again so that our mouths almost touched, and I could feel his lips move as he spoke.

'Only maybe?' He whispered, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss was short and sweet, his lips warm and soft. He brushed my hair off my face as he pulled back, and I rested my head on his shoulder as he ran his hand through my long hair.

'I want you, Chloe. And I'm willing to fight for you.'

'Fight for me?' I asked, confused; I hadn't been aware there was a competition.

'Fight your brother.' It took me a second to process that before I responded, smiling and laughing.

'He's going to be impossible.' I remarked, before saying sadly, 'Well, it's been nice knowing you.'

Now it was Paul's turn to laugh. 'You won't get rid of me that easily.'

I smiled against his shoulder. 'I certainly hope not.'


	46. Nightmares

**Chapter 46 - Nightmares**

Over the last few days, I had made the chair by the window mine. Lying in bed left me feeling weak; I didn't want to be weak. But lying in bed also tempted me with sleep, something that I had come to detest. I had never thought I would think of sleep with anything other than happiness and adoration. Sleeping was easy, enjoyable, relaxing, pleasurable.

But that had been before the nightmares.

I should have expected it. I really should have. If my memories were strong enough to cause major metal breakdowns, then invading my dreams should be easy.

But I hadn't expected it. I had been slapped in the face with them. Having to face _him_, every night; it was more than a nightmare. It was no wonder that Paul consistently had to wake me, console me, and restrain me. The dreams were consuming; so vivid and real that I felt every inch of pain, every desperate breath.

I had already disliked sleeping because of that week. Because with Demetri, it wasn't sleeping; it was being forced unconscious because he was sucking the life out of me. And then I had disliked it even more, because every time I slept, I had to wake up and repeat the panic. The panic that was controlling me because of Demetri.

But the nightmares, they had pushed me over the edge. I now point blank refused to sleep. After just three days, I had impressive bags under my eyes. To my chagrin, I had only been somewhat successful in staying awake.

After almost two full days awake, I had pretty much passed out. I had slept for a grand total of two hours before the nightmare had left me gasping and panicked. In the last 24 hours, I had fallen asleep several times, the longest of my naps lasting for 67 minutes. My shortest so far was a measly 14 minutes, which had ended in Paul restraining me as I tried to escape what I had thought was Demetri.

Yeah, sleeping wasn't very appealing right now.

So I found myself staking out the chair, doing anything and everything to keep myself awake. And most of the time that involved Paul.

We'd been talking a lot lately. Despite deciding that we wanted to be together, neither of us had known much about the other. It had been refreshing to discuss normal topics such as favourite movies, best holidays and funny school experiences. I had found myself smiling and laughing more over the last three days than I had for a long time. There were even times, though they were short and infrequent, when I found myself completely forgetting about Demetri.

But those times were just brief moments of reprieve, and didn't come nearly often enough.

Paul didn't like my idea; he thought it was stupid. Not for avoiding the nightmares; he understood that. Even without the imprint bond, he knew how terrible the dreams were; after all, I woke up scared and gasping every time. Paul just thought that refusing to sleep and making myself ill was a bad idea. He thought that there had to be a better way to get over them.

But since he didn't have an alternative solution, I was stuck with keeping myself awake indefinitely. And to keep myself awake, I needed distractions.

One thing I liked to do was look out the window. Today I had cranked it open as far it would go, and my head was hanging through it. The fresh air and wind were a nice change from the disinfectant smell that permeated the hospital. The wind was strong enough to whip through my hair, tendrils of it floating around me in the breeze. Looking up at the sky, I couldn't find any blue; grey clouds coated the sky, promising rain.

Almost as if the weather had heard my thought, at that moment, the first droplet fell from the heavens, splashing lightly on my forehead. I caught the next drop in my mouth, relishing the taste. The rain began to fall, and I pulled my head inside, thinking that this all felt strangely familiar.

And then the hospital just disappeared.

I was standing in the middle of the street, my clothes soaked, my hair wet and limp down my back. Rain was everywhere, blocking my vision so that I could barely make out the warehouse next to me. I stood still for a moment, dazed, before it all came rushing in.

Demetri. Warehouse. Escape.

Terror filled me as I gasped, my heart suddenly slamming in my chest, beating way too fast. And then I was running, sprinting along the building, the asphalt crunching and painful on my bare feet. My arms were pumping wildly, my hair flying behind me, my eyes darting around, searching for him.

Demetri. He was after me. He could be here any second. I had to go. I had to get away.

The words were a mantra in my head, driving me as I ran. Fear was twisting my stomach in knots, my panting breaths shallow and desperate.

And then something slammed into me, pushing me sidewards and into the ground. I hit the road hard, skidding along the asphalt with a scream. I felt my skin scrape away as I tumbled, the world a revolving blur.

Then he was there, looming over me. I barely had time to process the expression of fury that contorted his features before he grabbed my legs and started dragging me. I screamed at the pain, the road cutting into my skin as I struggled, my hands clawing at the ground helplessly.

Suddenly, he was hauling me off the ground as I shrieked, and his arms were restraining me. He let out a terrifying growl as his teeth found my neck, and I screamed as his fangs tore into my skin.

The world suddenly lurched, and with a gasp I found myself back in the hospital. I looked around wildly, my heart racing, my breathing still panicked. My hand flew to my neck, my whole body trembling as I tried to get my bearings.

Paul was holding me against his chest, my face pressed against his hot skin. I was curled into a ball, my knees against my chest as he held me on his lap. He was everywhere as I looked around, trying to figure what had happened. I hadn't realised I was crying until his fingers wiped away my tears, his hands cupping my face.

Realisation finally hit me, as my hysterical breaths started to even out.

It wasn't real. It hadn't been real. It hadn't happened. It was just a dream.

But was it? That time had been different. All my nightmares so far had been memories; me remembering, reliving what had happened. But this, this had been new. This had been imagined, invented by my panicked and traumatized mind.

I was also fairly sure that I had been awake. After a moment's thought, I figured it out.

It had been the rain. I had been watching the sky, had tasted the rain, just like I had when I had left the warehouse; I shuddered at the recollection. I couldn't believe an action so small could bring on such a full scale invasion of my mind. It had been an instant and complete loss of control.

Was it going to be like this all the time? Every time I saw something even remotely related, would I shut down and be forced to live a nightmare of purely my own creation? The thought terrified me.

I couldn't think of it; I _wouldn't_ think of it.

I shook my head as I blinked several times in quick succession, disentangling myself from my thoughts to find Paul gazing at me in concern.

I didn't know whether it was my face or the bond that told him I had nothing to say. He just looked at me and pulled me deeper into his embrace, and I sunk gratefully into him, needing nothing for the moment except his touch.

Because his touch was the only thing that could truly pull me from the nightmares, and bring me back to reality.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

Not knowing was killing me.

The nightmares had started a few days ago. Every time she woke in a panic, and every time the need to protect her once again consumed me. The pain I felt at seeing her so distressed was agonising, and I couldn't stop myself from wondering – for the thousandth time – _what happened?_

What had the bastard done that she couldn't sleep without dreaming of it, without waking herself from the fear that flooded through her? What torture had been inflicted that caused her to scream in pain, caused her to beg in desperation?

These questions haunted me, driving me crazy as my mind conjured up possible answers. My imagination was full to the brim with terrible ideas, terrible things that could have happened. I was torturing myself with my wonderings, with the horrifying possibilities.

I didn't want to know. I didn't want to know for certain that some of my imaginings, some of my guesses, were true. But _not_ knowing? Not knowing was worse. It was a million times worse. But I would have to survive with not knowing, until I could convince her.

I hadn't asked her to talk about it. I hadn't even mentioned it. I knew, without asking, that she couldn't bear to think of it, let alone speak of it. Her recollections, her nightmares; they haunted her. There was no way she could even begin to describe it, to put those terrible events into words.

I couldn't ask. Not when she was killing herself trying to stay awake, trying to avoid the dreams. It was setting me on the edge; the imprint was nagging at me to stop this, to step in. The urge was growing by the day, and I was sure that I wouldn't last much longer before I would be forced to intervene.

I had to protect her.


	47. Reconciliation

**Chapter 47 - Reconciliation**

_Chloe's POV_

Another day of staying awake had passed, and I was starting to fall apart.

Half the time I didn't even hear Paul speaking to me; I was lost in a daze, staring at something so intently that the rest of the world just disappeared. My brain was operating so slowly, it was ridiculous. But I still held onto one thought.

Stay awake.

Right now, as I stared determinedly at the door to my hospital room, that was all I could think; stay awake.

I didn't even react as the object of my scrutiny – the door – flew open, and Paul entered the room. Huh; I hadn't even known he'd left. Now that he was back, I felt myself perk up slightly; the imprint bond in action.

My gaze followed him as he approached the chair I was curled up in. He crossed the room in just three strides, and before I knew it, he was pulling me upwards by the hand. I reluctantly stood, raising my eyebrows in a silent question; his touch had woken me up even more, and I was confused.

'We're going out,' He said, handing me my ugg boots. I pulled them on distractedly, curious.

'What? Why?' I asked, my voice bleary. He took my hand again and led me out of the room, tugging me down the corridor.

'I have an idea.' He responded. I followed him slowly, not very coordinated, my legs stiff and heavy. I may have been half asleep, but I was sure that comment would have required more information even if I had been fully awake.

'Idea about what?' By now we were out of the hospital, and I was blinking in the glare from the clouds. I squinted, stumbling across the car park. It was unsurprising, given my disoriented state, and leaden limbs, that I soon tripped. Paul caught me almost instantly, swinging me upwards so that he was carrying me.

This was much better. Now I could just curl up to Paul, my arms wrapped around his neck as I relaxed. It would be all too easy to fall asleep here, but I couldn't; I had to stay awake.

I began to wonder where we going once we entered the woods. It was nice to see so much green after the blue of the hospital, and the smell of the trees made me smile. Paul kept on walking, and my curiosity finally got the better of me.

'Paul, where are you taking me?' I asked.

'To see your brother.' I was momentarily stunned, a small 'Oh' escaping me. A wave of tiredness wept over me, and I fought to remember what I had been about to ask.

'Why?' I finally enquired, blinking sleepily; it didn't occur to me to wonder why we were meeting in the middle of the woods.

'Because you two need to talk, and tell each other to stop being idiots.' He said, stopping.

'Hey! I'm _not_ being an idiot.' I protested, and he carefully set me down on my feet. I glanced around, looking for my brother, assuming that was why we had stopped. Eventually I found him, but not as I'd expected.

He was a wolf. I raised my eyebrows at Matt.

'Umm, I think a conversation is going to be difficult if I'm the only one talking.' I said to Matt, who gave me a look I couldn't read. He showed no inclination that he was going to phase. Paul laughed.

'Good luck convincing him to phase; he's spent most of the last two and a bit weeks as a wolf.' Paul explained, and I turned to him to give him a look.

'So you need me to convince him to phase? Because he's being an idiot and staying wolf?' Paul nodded. I fought to keep the smile off my face, suddenly feeling not so tired; this could be fun.

'How badly?' Paul gave me a look of confusion. 'How far do you want me to go, to get him back to human?' My voice was stronger now, and I knew Paul could tell I was looking forward to this. He smiled at me before replying.

'Do whatever you want.' This time I couldn't stop the cheeky smile that appeared on my lips. Walking over to Paul so I stood right in front of him, but not touching, I spoke to him quietly.

'If he punches you, I'm sorry.' Paul looked puzzled for a moment, before smiling.

Then we were both moving, and I was grabbing his neck with my hand, and his left arm was around my waist pulling me close. His right hand slipped through my hair as I titled my head upwards, and then our lips met, touching in a soft and sweet kiss. Barely a second passed before a tremendous shout reached my ears.

'GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!' Matt roared, charging through the trees towards us. I pulled away from Paul, but not before giving him a smile; kissing him made me melt, my limbs feeling like jelly. Pleasure seared through me, leaving me filled with happiness.

Turning to face my enraged brother, I walked to meet him, accidently-on-purpose tripping and falling forward when he was just a metre away. He caught me, and I threw my arms around his shoulders in a hug, breathing in his familiar smell. It had been so long since I'd seen him, and only now did I realise just how much I had missed him.

'I've missed you.' I whispered in his ear, and he hugged me back tightly, my feet no longer touching the ground. I could feel him shaking, but he wasn't charging towards Paul anymore, which was a good sign. Even as he held me I felt his shaking start to fade, and by the time he let me drop to the ground, he was barely trembling.

As I regained my feet, another wave of tiredness hit me, and I swayed. Matt's arms reached out to steady me, and he looked at me intently with a stern expression on his face.

'You look terrible.' He said, and I grimaced, but stayed silent. 'What, no witty retort? Now I really know something is wrong.' I smiled, but it was half hearted, and I averted my eyes. He sat down, pulling me with him so that we were facing. He turned serious as he took both my hands in his.

'Tell me what's wrong.' I sighed, resigning myself to the scolding that was sure to follow.

'I'm not sleeping.'

'Because you can't or because you won't?'

'A bit of both. Mostly the latter.'

He looked confused at this. 'Why? You love sleeping.'

I gave him a tight smile. 'I used to. Not anymore.' He gave me a look that screamed _explain, now_.

'I have,' I paused for a second, not meeting his eyes as I whispered. 'Nightmares.' Thankfully, he didn't have to ask what they were about. I could tell by the tightening of his facial expression he knew exactly what the cause was.

'So you think not sleeping and making yourself sick is the solution?'

I immediately protested. 'I am _not_ sick-' He cut me off, putting a hand over my mouth, muffling me. I glared, and he glared back. After a while, I relented, slapping his hand away and remaining silent.

'How long as this been going on for?'

I sighed before replying. 'Four days, maybe?'

He reacted exactly as I'd thought he would.

'FOUR DAYS?! You haven't slept in four days?! No wonder you look like your about to pass out, you're killing yourself!' I pursed my lips unhappily at his exaggeration, and unable to resist my natural instinct to retaliate, the words flew out of my mouth almost of their own accord.

'Hey, I am _not_ killing myself! And you can't talk! Apparently you've been a wolf for two weeks! What the hell is up with that?!' He glared at me, refusing to talk.

I gave him a glare before continuing. 'Explain, now! Because I won't even _contemplate_ sleeping until you tell me why.' I folded my arms determinedly as I finished, fully prepared to stay right where I was until he talked. He growled unhappily, but I just intensified my glare, waiting. Eventually, he caved.

'I just can't stop thinking about it. I get so angry, all I want to do is hunt down the bastard and kill him.' He practically growled the last part, his body trembling for a few seconds before stilling.

'I keep seeing that night in my head over and over again. Watching him hurt you. I'm supposed to protect you! I'm your brother! But I failed! We _all_ failed.'

'We protect the tribe. But we didn't protect you. That leech took you. And I'm driving myself _insane_ imagining everything that happened, everything that he did.'

'I can _never_ make it up to you. _Never_ be forgiven.'

His eyes were wild, desperate; I could see his roiling emotions in them as he stared at me with a ferocity that was startling. I was stunned, my body frozen. My eyes were wide, my mouth parted in shock; it was the first time that week had been mentioned. I knew I had to say something, but I couldn't; my heart was in my throat, my eyes burning as I forced back the tears that started to form.

Finally, I managed to get my mouth working again.

'It wasn't your fault.' I whispered, sounding strangled. His hands were still holding mine, and I gripped them tightly. He looked about to protest, but I shushed him, placing a finger over his mouth.

'No, listen. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault. And you don't need to make it up to me, because there's nothing that needs to be forgiven.' Again he looked about to complain, and again I silenced him, staring at him.

'I mean it. No more guilt. No more spending all your time as a wolf.' We glared at each other again, until Matt finally conceded, nodding and pulling me in for another hug. Again, tiredness suddenly consumed me, and I yawned, rubbing my eyes as I pulled away. Matt stared at me seriously.

'I'll agree, provided you start sleeping.' I almost rolled my eyes at his predictability, but I didn't. I just smiled and murmured my agreement, enjoying for the first time in a long time a moment with Matt where we had actually agreed on something.


	48. Torn

**Chapter 48 - Torn**

I still had the nightmares, but they no longer controlled me now. I would sleep, and I would dream, and wake up panicked. But with practice, it took me less and less time to recover. Last night it had taken me just ten minutes to calm myself, before I fell asleep again, the second time to much happier dreams.

I had only had one waking flashback since the first terrifying vision. Despite my apparent progress with my nightmares, I hadn't reacted well. It had taken Paul hours to calm me down, and my dreams that night had taken control, once again leaving me reluctant to sleep. However, I was slowly getting back to where I had been.

Now that I was sleeping again, and had been successful in the dream department, I found myself slowly growing less and less worried about that week. My happy go lucky optimism was returning, inch by inch, though I doubted I would ever be as upbeat and care free as I had been. But still, I was recovering. I was moving on.

And it was wonderful.

I contributed much of my improvement to Paul. He had continued to stay with me in the hospital, doing anything and everything from forcing me to sleep to entertaining me. Despite spending almost all my time with him, I never grew tired of being with him. Being with him was effortless; being with him felt _right_. His touch was intoxicating, his presence addicting.

Paul made me happy in a way that nothing else could.

Unfortunately, Paul had started going back to patrolling now that there was no need for him to be here 24/7. I missed him terribly when was away, but I wasn't as lonely as I'd thought I would be in his absence.

Now that my brother had control of his emotions, he was visiting me in the hospital. He wasn't nearly as happy about my new closeness with Paul, but was dealing with it. We were imprinted, after all. However, there had been a memorable moment when Matt had walked in on me and Paul lying in bed together, which he hadn't reacted well too. After that, Paul and I kept the touching to a minimum, at least in front of my brother.

I was enjoying my time with my brother. Matt and I got on quite well, most of the time. However, he had delivered a very stern half-hour lecture the day after the bed incident. I had found it simultaneously funny and embarrassing, and couldn't think back on it without laughing. However, I had managed to pull myself together at the end of his speech to reassure him that he didn't need to worry, because Paul and I weren't like that. Yet.

Since I had met with Matt in the woods, Paul hadn't kissed me again. As each day passed, my longing for Paul grew. His gentle touches were no longer enough. However, Paul maintained that he wouldn't do anything more until I was no longer in hospital. While I enjoyed the time to simply get to know him better, I couldn't help but yearn for the day that I got out of here, and not just so that I could be with Paul.

I was slowly beginning to feel trapped by the hospital. My dislike of cages, of not being free to leave as I will, was returning with a vengeance. I was growing more jumpy by the day, but I was learning to hide it; the nurses didn't need any more reasons to keep me here.

Their attempts at convincing me to talk about what had happened had notably increased. Most of the time I simply remained silent, stricken by the thought of reliving that week. There were times when the discussion was less calm, and I found myself breaking down, falling apart at the seams. Despite the many conversations on the topic, I hadn't budged.

I couldn't talk about it. Not just that I wouldn't, but that I _couldn't_.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

I was still haunted by my imagination; by the horrifying images it conjured, by the terrible scenes it produced. The need to know was growing, and soon I wouldn't be able to stand it.

She muttered in her dreams sometimes, words that chilled me to the bone, and left me pulling her closer. The panic attacks were less common now, but the words she had screamed, shouted, and whispered tortured me. They were fuel for my mind, and my mind was creating an endless supply of possible tortures that she had been subjected to.

My memories of what I had seen were the worst. Most of the time, they weren't enough to get me to phase; they were so often in my thoughts. But there had been times when I hadn't been able to stand it, when the wolf had burst forth, my emotions too intense, too strong to contain.

I couldn't describe the torture that had been watching her at his mercy. There was nothing worse, nothing more painful. It was permanently imprinted in my mind, and reliving it was agonising. I couldn't imagine what it must be like for her to have to relive it, when she was the one that was being hurt.

It wasn't surprising that her memories were destroying her. I could see it. Every day she suffered. She would improve, would recover from the dreams quicker. And then she would see something, and panic, and we'd be back to square one. It was awful to watch.

I knew she didn't want to talk. I didn't even think she _could_. But with every passing day, I grew more and more certain that not talking was killing her. Bottling it up, not venting it, it was too much. I could see it driving her crazy, driving her already somewhat paranoid behaviour to new limits.

She avoided the hallway, staying in her room. The few times she left, she acted as if she expected the leech to turn up at any second; she probably did expect it. Her eyes looked like they were about to jump out of their sockets, constantly darting around, looking for him. She didn't believe she was safe; she _couldn't_ believe it.

I could tell that she wasn't going to recover. The fear was consuming her, its hold too tight. She had to let it out. But I couldn't stand to even broach the topic. To see the look on her face, the pained expression. There was no good way out of this. Either way, she would be in pain.

And that was something I couldn't stand.

I was scared to touch her. Scared of what the leech had done, scared I would do something to remind her. Scared that I would hurt her.

At the same time, I _needed_ to touch her. Needed to hold her, to know she was safe. Needed to be with her.

But more than that, I _wanted_ her. Not because of the imprint, not because we were tied so tightly together that at times we were almost the same person. I simply wanted her because of _her_. Because she was just as volatile and emotion ridden as I was; had been before all of this. Because she had a strong will, and had challenged me, despite my obvious advantage. Because like me, she seemed to be always up for a fight.

When we were together, it was effortless. We could bicker and tease each other, we could argue and fight, and we would enjoy it. When others would be insulted, or annoyed, or frustrated, we had fun. We could communicate entire conversations just through a look, through a gesture. We _clicked_.

And because of that, I wanted her more than anything.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

Finally, a week after the meeting with my brother, I got permission from the doctor to leave the next day.

The next morning I woke up early, anticipation leaving me too keyed up to fall back to sleep. Paul had disappeared while I was asleep, and while waking up without him was starting to become familiar, his absence left me with a pang of sadness. I refused to leave in my white hospital gown, so I slipped into the bathroom to change into jeans and a pink shirt that Matt had brought for me. Dressed in my own clothes, I already felt different; I was no longer a patient.

Looking in the mirror, I looked the same as I had before all of this had happened. The same, except for two small details.

My wolf necklace still hung around my throat, now just the head of a wolf. Despite everything, I couldn't bring myself to take it off, to throw it away. It was so strongly tied to that week; it had been the reason I hadn't dropped dead the first time I had been bitten. But for some irrational, illogical reason, I wanted to keep it. I wanted it, because despite everything, it had survived. Like me.

The other part of me that was different was far less sentimental. I wore my hair down to cover my neck at all times, but as I stared, I brushed it away from my neck, feeling and staring at the numerous silver crescents that were a permanent reminder of him. A reminder I didn't really want, but that I couldn't get rid of.

Brushing my hair back over my neck, I stared at my reflection, knowing that despite my almost identical appearance, I was nowhere near the same person as before. I never would be. But whether or not my changing was a good thing, I had yet to tell. While I hated my memories with a passion, I knew that the events of that week had brought Paul and I together. Did the good outweigh the bad?

I guess I would just have to find out.

After what felt like an eternity, Matt turned up, and the hospital signed me over to his custody. I was buoyant as I walked out the hospital doors, which he found amusing. He didn't seem to be nearly as happy as I was, but I could tell he was pleased I was now well enough to go home.

We chatted amiably for the car trip home, and it seemed like just moments later we were pulling up in front of our house. I smiled as I jumped out of the car, happy to finally be back; it had been too long.

I happily wandered about the house, noting how familiar everything looked. I didn't know why that surprised me; maybe it was because I had changed, and I had half expected everything else to have changed too. And maybe it was because I half expected to see a certain vampire waiting for me. But I couldn't think of that; I was supposed to be happy.

Matt found my exploration amusing, and I made a face at him before heading upstairs. However, once I cleared the landing, and my bedroom door came into sight, I found myself skidding to a stop, reaching a standstill two metres away from the door. My cheery mood was quickly disintegrating, to be replaced with a sickening coil of fear.

My feet were frozen as I stared at the door, unable to force myself forward. In all my excitement, I had forgotten that the last time I had been in my bedroom, had been the night he had taken me.

The memory filled me with fear, and my breaths hitched in my throat as I looked at it, transfixed. I couldn't shake the feeling, despite knowing it was irrational, that _he_ was going to be in there.

And so the mental war began. I wasn't sure how long I stood there, trying to convince myself that there was no danger whatsoever in entering my bedroom. But no matter how convincing my mind was, deep down, I would never truly believe I was safe.

Demetri had broken something, something far more fragile and important than my body. He had taken the part of me that was care free, the part of me that revelled in life. He had taken it, and he had crushed it. He had burned it to smithereens. And he had left me consumed by the emptiness, an emptiness that had driven me to become the opposite of what I had once been.

I was waiting, waiting for the day when life would be struck back into me. But until then, there was barely a second, barely a moment when there wasn't a part of me expecting danger. Expecting pain, and suffering, and hurt.

My dislike, my hatred for cages, for imprisonment; it had grown to a scale such that life itself felt like a trap. After three weeks in the hospital, still I had been wary of walking the halls, of venturing out beyond the room that had been my sanctuary. Already this house was beginning to feel like it was closing in, and my wandering had been as much to check for danger as it had been for reflection.

Danger was everywhere. Danger was my life. So it didn't matter what was waiting behind the door. What mattered was whether or not I was ready, whether or not I could bring myself to face it.

Sucking in a huge breath, I walked forwards, tentatively placing my hand on the doorknob. I was trembling, fighting the rapidly growing urge to turn and run. But I couldn't; I had to do this. And then I was opening the door, bursting into my bedroom, a scream ready in my throat.

There was no one there.

It looked perfectly normal, everything exactly as it should be. I sighed in relief, sinking onto my bed gratefully, feeling my constricted throat clearing as my breaths slowed. The relief that consumed me was overwhelming in its intensity.

Everything was overwhelming lately. My emotions controlled me, consumed me. Everything came in its extremes. If I was happy, I became radiant, so optimistic and cheerful that the whole world seemed alive. If I was scared, I was terrified; I couldn't break away once it had a hold.

Happiness and fear. Fighting for the right to rule me. Representing me before, and me after. Me in control, me out of control. Both wanting dominance, neither willing to yield to the other. Both had roots deep within me, so deep that destruction of either was impossible. I was locked in an eternal struggle.

And I could feel it tearing me apart.

I knew which side I wanted to win; given the option between terror and joy, between being in control, and being lost, the choice was easy. But fear was permanently etched within me, and to get rid of it, I was going to have to fight it.

I would have to fight, and it would _hurt_.

But it was better than the alternative.


	49. Chased

**Chapter 49 - Chased**

_Matt's POV_

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been watching her every move since she'd walked out of the hospital doors. Even now, with her no longer in my sight, my ears were peeled, following her progress throughout the house. Listening to her footsteps, her breaths, and her pounding heart. Alert for even the slightest indication that she wasn't ok.

Part of me wondered if I'd ever stop watching her; ever be relaxed enough to leave her without protection again. But as I heard her breath hitch, and heart begin to race, I drifted to the stairs, knowing the answer.

No. I would never stop watching her, not after what had happened.

I was silent as I went upstairs, ghostlike as I stopped to watch her. She was frozen in place, staring at her bedroom door with fear. She was quivering, and I stifled a growl as I began to wonder why the bedroom scared her so badly. She didn't notice me, and I didn't move, instinct telling me that she didn't need help; yet.

For fifteen minutes she stood there, me watching silently, until she moved forward. I watched as she entered, sinking onto the bed as she calmed herself. I headed back downstairs, satisfied that she was ok; or rather, her new equivalent of ok.

This time I couldn't stop the growl that escaped me; I wanted to kill that leech for what he'd done to her.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

I snuck out the back door after just five minutes in the house. And by snuck out, I mean the werewolf with super advanced hearing that tracked my every move didn't protest when I headed out the door.

I plopped myself down on the grass outside, barely 5 metres from the doorway. I breathed in deep breaths of the outside air, trying to calm myself, trying to dispel the feeling of being trapped my house had given me. My own home felt like a prison.

The thought made me angry, made me frustrated, and I took my emotions out on the lawn. My fingers pulled at the grass with a manic intensity, digging into the dirt and tearing it up as if doing so would solve all my problems. It was a nice thought; a stupid thought, but a nice one.

I couldn't remember the last time my problems had been that easy to solve.

After 10 minutes of attacking the ground, my frustration was going nowhere, and had only increased. It was getting me keyed up, and I desperately needed something to distract me.

'Matt.' I called, knowing he was watching, and listening. 'I need you to distract me. I'm driving myself crazy out here.'

It didn't take long for him to emerge from the house, and when he walked up to my spot on the grass, he didn't comment on the torn up patch of grass in front of me. He just offered me a hand, which I gladly took. He hauled me up easily, and I smiled at him, dusting my hands off on my jeans.

'Come on. Quil's on patrol and Claire could use a play buddy.' He smiled knowingly as I perked up, eager at the thought of company; especially company that had no knowledge of recent events. Plus, Claire was also great at keeping me happy.

The trip to Sam and Emily's was short, mercifully, because I could barely stop myself from bouncing up and down with all my pent up energy. Despite our casual conversation, I could feel Matt watching me carefully, alert for any indication that I wasn't dealing with being released from hospital. I was torn between being annoyed and feeling protected as a result of his scrutiny.

But my mixed feelings disappeared as we emerged from the trees, and I saw Claire playing on the grass outside the house. I smiled, racing forwards to scoop her up into my arms, as she let out a high pitched squeal of laughter.

Her laugh made me laugh, and for a while we were both just laughing, as I spun her around in a circle. As I slowed, and sat myself down on the ground, still holding her to my chest, she happily began chatting.

'Chwoe! Chwoe, you're back! I missed you. Where have you been? I haven't chased Qwil in ages!'

'Aww, Claire, I missed you too. And I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to chase Quil, but I've been sick.' She made a sad face at me, and I poked her nose gently. She scrunched up her face in response, the sight making me smile again; Claire was an expert when it came to cheering me up, and she didn't even do it intentionally.

'Are you better now, Chwoe? Can we chase Qwil?' Apparently, chasing Quil was a favourite activity.

'I'm almost better, Claire. And we can chase Quil when he gets back.' She squealed in excitement, bouncing up and down happily.

'Yay! I wuv chasing Qwil. Emby chases Qwil with me sometimes, but Emby doesn't make funny faces wike you do.'

I grinned, and so began the exchange of silly faces. According to Claire, I had fifty different expressions, but I'd be surprised if I had more than twenty. The funny faces were soon followed by funny sounds, and before I knew it, Claire was pretending to be a duck and I was cat.

Being a cat was much easier than being a duck. I just had to lie on the ground dozing, because that's what cats did. But Claire had spent 10 minutes waddling around, flapping her arms and quacking. I was amazed she hadn't given up yet.

However, it didn't take long for her to flop down next to me, announcing that she wanted to be a cat too. And so Claire the kitten and Chloe the cat found themselves both lying on the ground, relaxing like cats. We were both on our sides, facing each other, and were fiercely debating ice cream flavours.

I felt like a smile had been permanently etched on my face. Playing with Claire was exactly what I needed; I'd be hard pressed to find a better distraction. She brought out my inner child, brought me closer to who I had been before that week; I hadn't seen this side of me for a while. Now that it was back, I realised just how much I liked this happy part of me.

But as I was coming to realise, happiness was all too often interrupted by fear.

'Chwoe! Chwoe, look!' Claire was pointing at my collarbone in horror. I looked downwards, startled, at first unable to figure out what had caught her attention. But as she continued gesturing, I finally discovered the source of her distress. Picking up the wooden head of a wolf that was what remained of my charm, I dangled it from my fingers in a silent question.

'Chwoe, its bwoken! The wolf is bwoken!' I thanked fate that Claire was too young to read facial expressions, because I was pretty mine was one of momentary terror. I shoved my fear downwards, mentally floundering at how to respond as I adopted a neutral face.

'Yeah, it is.' My voice was sad as I said it. Claire frowned, sadly regarding the wolf head.

'Why is it bwoken, Chwoe?'

'It snapped.' I made a sad face, which Claire mirrored. I playfully flicked her on the forehead, and she grinned, and just like that, the conversation was forgotten.

The rest of the morning passed in a whirlwind of smiles, laughter, and Claire. It seemed she was eager to make up for all our lost time, because her requests and ideas were never ending. Despite the fact that she seemed to have boundless energy, I couldn't say I was surprised when she started yawning. My heart melted when she curled herself around me, falling asleep with her arms around my neck and her head on my shoulder.

I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I leant against a tree bordering the house, watching her as she slept. It was incredibly tempting to try and fall asleep myself, but I resisted, content to play with Claire's hair instead. I didn't know why such a mundane activity was so fascinating, but it was. I just loved to watch her curls spring back up after I stretched the ringlets.

I was sure I would have grown bored eventually, but not long after Claire fell asleep, I felt Paul approaching. Just minutes later, he appeared from the trees, and I watched him as he walked towards us. My heart gave an excited squeeze at the sight of him, and already I felt the pang of separation lessening as he approached. I smiled at him as he sat next to me, and couldn't stop the contented sigh that escaped me as our arms touched.

'I can't believe you got her to fall asleep.' He whispered, and I grinned.

'She tired herself out. Apparently, pretending to be a duck is hard work.' He laughed at that, but quietly. 'I wouldn't know. I was a cat.' He laughed again, struggling to stifle his loud chuckles.

'Why is a cat easier than a duck?'

'Cats sleep all the time. So I just laid on the ground and slept.' Paul looked surprised.

'Really? Did you dream?' He asked carefully, looking at me intently. I knew that what he was really asking was whether or not I'd had the nightmares.

'No, I didn't actually fall asleep. Claire's quacking was a bit distracting.' He laughed again, and this time I joined in.

'So if you're cat, and Claire's a duck, what am I?' I couldn't believe he was actually interested in continuing this conversation.

'Claire's not a duck anymore, she changed to a kitten. And I can't believe you have to ask what animal you are.' I said incredulously, making him smile.

'A wolf?' I nodded, and Paul stole the hand that had been playing with Claire's hair, entwining it with his own. As usual, my body tingled at the touch, his warm hand making me smile at the joy snaking through me.

'And does the wolf get along with the cat?' Paul asked. I tilted my head to the side as I thought.

'Well, wolves are similar to dogs, and dogs and cats don't get along.' I mused, giving him a cheeky smile. I wasn't sure how I'd thought Paul would react, but I hadn't expected the smirk that graced his lips.

'Dogs also chase cats.' I was surprised for a moment, before laughing, grinning widely the entire time.

'Ok, you win. But I'm off limits, I've got Claire.' Paul's eyes glinted deviously. Oh no.

'Quil.' He called, not loud enough to wake Claire, but enough to make sure Quil heard. I felt my grin morph into an expression of alarm.

'You wouldn't.' I said warningly. Paul's grin told me that he most certainly _would_. Quil was already out of the house, striding towards us looking almost as pleased as Paul. Getting to his feet, Paul pulled me up after him, still smirking. All too soon, Quil was in front of me, gesturing for me to hand Claire over.

'Quil,' I whined pleadingly, my eyes begging. 'I _need_ her. She's keeping me safe.' He just shook his head, grinning as he ignored my glare and took Claire from me, somehow managing to keep her asleep even as I tried to slap him in the face.

'Sorry Chloe. But it's my turn.' He said happily, before turning and walking back to the house.

And then it was just me and Paul, him standing just feet away looking annoyingly satisfied. I pouted, but he just smiled, looking even more pleased with himself.

'You have five seconds.' I gave him a quick glare, before sighing.

And then I was running.

In just seconds I crossed the grass that surrounded Sam and Emily's house, and then I was disappearing into the trees, my hair flying behind me as I threw myself forwards. I had no doubt that he was going to catch me. But if I was going to be forced into this, I wasn't going to let him win easily.

Heading away from the house, I tried to pick a clear path through the woods, but wasn't very successful. There seemed to be branches everywhere, and Paul could probably hear me crashing through the bushes as clearly as if I were right next to him. I needed a plan, or else this whole thing was going to over in seconds.

I couldn't hide; the imprint made that impossible. Plus he had supernatural hearing, and speed, and strength, and smell, and sight. Yeah, I was doomed. What did I have? What did I have that could possibly be of any use against Paul?

And then I saw it.

The perfect tree, just screaming at me to climb it. Now it was my turn to smirk.

This whole thing just got a whole lot more fun.

* * *

It took Paul less than a minute to find me. I had only been sitting on the branch that was my new perch for a few seconds before Paul appeared 10 metres below me. I tried to remain as quiet as possible, and kept myself small as I watched him. I was stretched out along the branch on my stomach in an effort to hide my pink shirt, which would easily give me away.

I knew my small attempts at concealment were no match for Paul and his supernatural talents. But then again, hiding wasn't really what I was aiming for.

He stood at the base of my tree for a few moments, searching the surroundings, before he finally looked upwards. He easily found me amongst the branches, and I smiled at him as our eyes met. Now the fun could begin.

'Found you!' He called up to me, looking pleased with himself. Poor guy; he had no idea.

'I can see that.' I replied, smiling. I propped my head up with my arms as I stared down at him.

'Are you going to come down now?'

'Nope.' I said happily, and Paul looked confused, a tad wary at my pleased tone.

'Why not?' He rumbled, his suspicion clear.

'You haven't caught me yet.' I replied smugly, smirking down at him. His pleased expression quickly fell away as realisation dawned. After a few seconds, his eyes lit up at the challenge.

He approached the tree trunk purposefully, and I leaned over the branch more to watch. He looked determined and confident, and I felt a bit guilty that I was going to burst his bubble. I had chosen this specific tree for a reason, and Paul was about to find out why.

He easily grabbed one of the lower branches, hauling himself upwards. I watched, eyes wide, as with a satisfying crack, the branch snapped, falling to the ground with Paul along with it. I winced as Paul hit the ground, feeling bad, but I couldn't stop the laughter that escaped me.

His face was hilarious, a mixture of shock and anger. With an angry snarl he got to his feet, and I was still laughing as his second attempt to climb the tree began. This one went only slightly better than the first, but Paul once again found himself on the ground. And I had just managed to stop laughing, too.

This time the cries of mirth that bubbled from my lips caused Paul to look up at me, glaring. I just waved, grinning as the laughter wracked my body. Paul continued trying to climb the tree I had taken up residence in, failing repeatedly, and soon I was crying with laughter, wincing as my stomach began to cramp.

It was just too funny. I knew that none of the branches would be able to hold his weight, and the more he tried to reach me, the more frustrated he got. After about five minutes, Paul paused to stare up at me in annoyance.

'You're killing me here.' He yelled, his frustration clear. I called back to him cheerfully, still reclining on my branch.

'You wanted to chase the cat, Paul. This is all on you.'


	50. Silence

**Chapter 50 - Silence**

Ten minutes later, Paul had finally managed to reach me on my branch. He had cleverly scaled the tree next to mine, one which was much stronger, and had leapt from his tree into mine. My heart had jumped to my throat watching him fling himself through the air, but he seemed to effortlessly catch onto the trunk of my tree.

In just seconds he was reaching for me, a grin on his face as he spoke.

'Caught you.' I smiled back at him, a shiver rolling through me as he pulled me into his arms. 'Finally.' He added, and I laughed softly. I was about to respond when the branch suddenly creaked ominously, and I shared a glance with Paul.

'I think we might want to climb down before we fall down.' I said, to which Paul agreed with a laugh. We both descended quickly, and soon we were dropping to the forest floor, Paul doing so with considerably more stealth and agility. I stumbled upon landing, and in an instant Paul was there, his left arm around my waist.

My whole body was tingling as he pulled me closer, my skin on fire. Both my hands were pressed to his chest, and I gasped as my fingers met his bare flesh. His right hand cupped my cheek, tilting my head as he leaned in to kiss me, a kiss that set my whole body alight with sparks of pleasure.

Too soon it was over, and he was pulling away; I made a sad noise, grabbing the arm that was around my waist and keeping it there. There was a flicker of a strange emotion on Paul's face, his gaze not meeting mine as he stared at something over my left shoulder. I followed his gaze, turning to see what he was looking at, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me.

Confused, I opened my mouth to speak, but I snapped it shut almost instantly as his hand moved slowly from my shoulder to my neck. I stiffened, but didn't protest as his hand swept my hair away from my neck, exposing it and the bite marks it bore. I was breathing heavily, but being so close to Paul was keeping me from panicking as his warm fingers traced one of the curved scars.

'Every time I touch you, I worry that I'll set you off.' He whispered, staring at my scars as his finger continued to trace over them. 'I worry that I'll do something that reminds you of what happened.' My eyes were wide as I stared at him, quivering slightly at the hot trails his hand leaves behind. His eyes met mine now, fierce and full of emotion.

'It kills me, never knowing when you're going to break. Not knowing what to avoid, not knowing what he did to you.' I was pretty sure the only thing keeping me upright was Paul's arm around my waist.

'I know you can't talk about it. I won't force you. But I keeping it inside is making it worse.' And with that he pulled me in close, his right hand threading through my hair as I pressed my face to his chest.

I couldn't remember how to speak. I couldn't remember how to move. I wasn't even sure if I was still breathing. I had no response to what he was saying, what he was silently asking.

A small part of me agreed with him. Part of me knew that my fear was all bottled up, and that soon I wouldn't be able to contain it. Knew that if I didn't get it out of me, didn't confide in someone, it would consume me.

Another part of me thought about the pack. About how they all felt guilty about what had happened. They deserved an explanation. They should know what I had found out.

But while those parts existed, they were nowhere near strong enough to counteract the overwhelming fear I had of reliving, even for an instant, any of the pain Demetri had caused. And I knew, that until something inside of me snapped, that I would not be able to say a word.

I wasn't sure how long the silence between us lasted. I had to speak, had to say something. I was frozen, unable to think. But eventually, the words came.

'Paul, you don't want to know.' I whispered, and he tilted my face up so that our eyes met. His hand was warm on my cheek as he looked down at me.

'_I_ don't want to know. I'd do anything to forget.' My voice broke, and I buried my face in his chest again. Breathing in his woodsy scent, and something else I couldn't name that I identified with Paul, I tried to stop my trembling.

'You were there, Paul. You saw more than enough. And I know they say that knowing is always better, but trust me, you don't want to know this.' Paul didn't say anything, for which I was grateful. He just held me, his warm embrace shielding me from the world as I pulled myself together. The sound of his heart, the feel of his bare chest, was intoxicating. With his touch, I eventually stopped my quivering, calming myself enough to talk without my voice shaking.

'Do you remember what I said to you that day, about you liking me?' I asked, looking up at Paul, the hint of a smile on my face.

'I think it's been more than 24 hours.' I whispered, staring up at him. Now he was smiling back, teasing me as he paused before responding.

'Well, my answer hasn't changed.' He said huskily, and my hand reached around his neck, knotting in his hair and pulling him downwards until our lips met. I delighted in the feeling of his hot lips as they kissed mine, and I pulled myself closer to Paul, loving the feeling of his body as it pressed against me.

Paul could make me happy like nothing else could.

* * *

Everyone was _still _staring_._ When Paul had flung me over his shoulder and carried me back to Sam and Emily's, it hadn't crossed my mind to worry about seeing everyone for the first time in weeks. Now, I was really regretting not being prepared.

I had experienced many awkward silences; I had been the instigator of my fair share. But the silence that had followed my entry hadn't been the kind caused by a bizarre comment, the kind that could be solved by a joke or a laugh. The silence had been pressing, suffocating.

A silence where every one of the pack members present – except for Paul – stared at me, each with looks I couldn't quite identify. Words had failed me, as I sat on the couch where Paul had dumped me, discomfort freezing my brain.

But the world had blessed me with Claire, who after three minutes of silence had unknowingly intervened, loudly asking the room whether it was time to chase Quil yet.

After that, things had returned to almost normal, with conversations starting up again. But it hadn't escaped my notice that everyone was still throwing glances my way, their gazes lingering far too long, their eyes filled with something that sent shivers through me.

I wanted to say something. To do something. Something to stop this. I just didn't know what. Somehow, a sarcastic or snide comment just didn't seem right. But my worrying was abruptly interrupted by a sudden mass movement to the kitchen, which was now full to the brim with six foot plus males crowding around a small and squashed Emily. I didn't need to ask what had been the cause of the rush; I had observed this mad dash for food many times before.

For the first time since I'd walked in, no one was staring at me; they were all occupied by whatever Emily had cooked up. I took a brief moment to enjoy the solitude, but I was hungry, so with a sigh I hopped off the couch, resigning myself to being the object of attention once more.

By the time I managed to reach the table, the crowd had somewhat dispersed, with most of the muffins having been demolished almost instantaneously. I couldn't help but remember what had happened the last time I had tried to get my hands on a muffin in this house, and almost as if he'd heard my thoughts, Paul appeared next to me, seizing the last muffin and dangling it teasingly over my head.

'Oh, come on! Are we really going to do this again?' I cried, indignant. I gave Paul a sour look, which he ignored, simply smiling at me, with a sneaky glint in his eyes.

'How badly do you want it?' He asked, his tone teasing.

'Why?' I gave him a suspicious look as I responded.

'Are you willing to fight for it?' I resisted the urge to face palm. I should have expected this. I was fairly sure he didn't physically mean to fight me, and I mentally cringed as I tried to imagine what he had in mind, but I couldn't deny that I was curious. Crossing my arms in front of me, I steeled myself.

'What did you have in mind?' He smirked. Oh no.

'A dare.' I kept my expression neutral, bracing myself for the part that would make me flinch.

'I'm listening.' I couldn't quite keep the smile off my face as I replied. Despite my caution, I was getting excited.

'Silence, for ten minutes.' I raised my eyebrows; that didn't seem that difficult, and it didn't quite explain the anticipation I could see in his eyes.

'That's all?'

'I mean it. Not a sound. No talking, no groaning, no laughing. Nothing.'

'And you'll give me the muffin?' I asked, trying to figure out what the catch was. Alarm bells had gone off in my head when he had said 'no groaning', and his devious looking eyes were telling me that there most certainly _was_ a catch.

'Yes.' There was a short silence while we stared each other down, him trying to mask his eagerness and failing, and me levelling him with a suspicious glance as I pondered his terms. I didn't really care about the muffin anymore; I was more interested in the challenge of beating Paul and whatever secret weapon he had for this. The competitive part of me couldn't resist the dare, eager to see who would win.

The battle was on; this was going to be interesting.

'Fine. Ten minutes. Timed, and I want someone unbiased setting it.' He smirked, and didn't look surprised at my demand.

'Agreed.' Oh, god. I felt as if I'd just signed my life away.

Emily agreed to be our impartial timer, and we left the muffin in the kitchen, but not before I strictly informed the household that if anyone so much as touched it, there was going to be hell to pay.

I was reasonably confident in my ability to keep silent. It was only ten minutes. And while I was sure that Paul had something planned that was going to help him win, I wasn't overly worried. It couldn't be that bad.

I was so wrong.

* * *

The ten minutes that followed were the longest ten minutes of my life.

I sat myself down on the couch, keeping my mouth firmly shut as I sunk into the pillows. I immediately noticed Embry staring at me, so I stared back unashamedly, a neutral expression on my face. He looked taken aback at my stare, an uncomfortable look on his face, but he didn't avert his eyes, so neither did I. I was preparing myself for what was looking to be a staring contest, when without warning Paul collapsed onto the couch next to me, leaping over the back as to surprise me.

I jumped, barely keeping in a surprised squeak as I was jolted. I turned my gaze on him, my angry glare meeting his satisfied look. He didn't look the slightest bit deterred that his plan hadn't worked, and that was when I knew.

This was only the tip of the ice burg.

I was proven right just seconds later.

Paul just laughed at my angry look, stealing my pillow and settling himself comfortably facing me, grinning as my glare intensified. I launched myself at him, grabbing the pillow before he could collapse on it, clambering off the couch before he could grab me. I backed away from him, holding the pillow in front of me like a shield. He got up slowly, and one look at his expression told me all I needed to know.

For the next three minutes, Paul chased me through the house. After the first minute, other members of the house started commenting, jabs and remarks that were meant to break my silence. I was distracted by an impressively strange jibe from Quil, turning to give him a shocked look, and Paul was quick to sneak behind me, his hands seizing my waist and once again almost eliciting a yelp. He flung me over his shoulder, and I protested by whacking him with the pillow, though it didn't have much of an effect.

Once again we were back on the couch, though this time I was seated on Paul's lap. He promptly stole the pillow back, flattening it behind his back as I made a sad face. Paul just gave me a smile, before he began tugging on my hair; I rolled my eyes, breathing in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. It didn't really work, and after a full minute of hair tugging, I was thoroughly annoyed.

My arms were crossed as I sat there, my fists clenched as his hair tugging progressed to poking. I started squirming, but I couldn't escape his hold, and he began poking me anywhere and everywhere. Pressing my lips together tightly, I began to wonder when exactly this had turned into a game of _how-can-we-annoy-Chloe-the-most_.

* * *

Five minutes later, I was happily eating my muffin, a gleeful smile on my face. I was once again on Paul's lap, but this time I wasn't being mercilessly teased and annoyed. Paul had failed to get me to make sound, though not for lack for trying. Still, he was looking pretty smug as I savoured my prize; apparently annoying me had been enough compensation.

As I stared at my muffin, contentedly nibbling, Paul's hand snapped forward, trying to tear off a section. Apparently, he wasn't _completely_ appeased.

'Hey!' I protested, slapping his hand away as he laughed. There was no way he was getting any of this muffin; I had gone through too much. I gave him a stern look, pointing my finger at him threateningly, before popping another section my mouth.

Victory _was_ sweet.


	51. Together

**Chapter 51 - Together**

I couldn't stop laughing the whole trip home. What had started out as an innocent nudge to the shoulder had quickly turned into an all-out war. I had squealed and laughed as I had tried to dodge Paul, without much success. In a last ditch effort, I had thrown myself on his back, which had been followed by an exhilarating few minutes as he tried to shake me off.

Eventually, we had calmed down somewhat, but I was still clinging to Paul's back as he walked, my chin resting on his shoulder. I'd thought that our brief game of hide and seek had been fun, but this was better. It had been too long since I'd been for a piggy back ride, and I was enjoying it immensely. But it wasn't just because of how much fun I was having.

Being in such close contact with Paul was intoxicating. The skin to skin contact was enthralling, and my whole body was alive with sensation. His bare shoulder against my collarbone had my nerves tingling, the heat soaking through me along with pleasure. I was hyper aware of my legs wrapped around his back, his hands gripping me beneath my knees for balance.

By the time we reached my house, I was gasping for breath, my stomach cramped from too much laughing. My body had melted against him, every part of my torso pressed against his back. I hoped he wouldn't set me down on my feet too soon, because I no longer knew how to work my legs. I hoped he wouldn't let go of me, period. The electricity between us was startling, at a level of intensity it had never been before.

Despite the fact that I was almost alight from his enlivening touch, I couldn't seem to stop myself from giggling. The banter between us was effortless, and seemed to be never ending. I couldn't stop the surges of amusement that were rolling through me, and Paul's laugh was addicting, so much so that I couldn't stop myself from laughing with him.

I felt like I was about to burst, the joy within me filling me to the brim and consuming me. I couldn't keep the smile off my face as we trooped up the stairs, and even after Paul dumped me on my bed, the breath whooshing out of me as I hit the mattress, I grinned up at him. He plopped down next to me, the bed bouncing under his weight, and I snickered, earning myself a poke to the nose as punishment.

Despite the fact that he was just inches away from me, I was feeling the separation. Not touching was leaving me with a small feeling of emptiness, and with every second that passed, I felt it spreading through me, the incompleteness growing. It was ridiculous, the fact that we could feel so apart when we were so close, but it didn't change the fact that it was true.

At least I wasn't the only one. One glance at Paul told me everything I needed to know, his want burning deep in his eyes as he stared at me. He quickly pulled me closer, his arm snaking around my waist and tugging me forwards. The relief was instantaneous, and I smiled into his chest, breathing him in.

'I think I'm addicted to you.' I mumbled, savouring his incredible scent of soil, forest, and a third strange smell I could never identify, but inhaled like a drug. He laughed at my comment, and I felt his chest rumble, my splayed hands that were pressed against his chest feeling the movement. Not to be out done, Paul nosed his way into my hair, tickling my scalp as he smelled me. It had become a habit of his, and the feeling of his other hand combing through my curls was familiar and relaxing.

'I think I'm more obsessed than you are. I imprinted on you.' I smiled again, making a soft noise in agreement. I supposed he was right. While it was hard to imagine, I knew that what I to from the imprint bond was nothing compared to what he felt. And the more time we spent together, the more I began to pick up on things that proved it.

At first I had been amused and somewhat bewildered as to why he was so obsessed with breathing me in at any chance he got. I was pretty sure it was a wolf thing, with the imprint making some aspects of the wolf more dominant than they would have been otherwise. But if he thought I smelled as good as he smelled to me, I couldn't blame him. Now, most times he sniffed me, I just smiled, enjoying the closeness.

Our relationship was like that. There were so many strange events, so many unexplainable things that happened, that we'd both just given up on questioning it. Not much surprised us anymore, and when something weird occurred, we just took it in our stride. Explanations just weren't needed. There was just no point.

But tonight, I _did_ actually want something explained.

'Paul, what are we?' I asked, starting to gently trace a pattern on his chest with my hand. His forehead crinkled in confusion, and I bit my lip as I tried to think of how to explain myself.

'With everything that's happened, we haven't exactly been traditional. Not that I mind. I like us, I like _you_. I'm just trying to… I don't know. Figure it out?'

'I mean, you've been sleeping in my bed for three weeks. Which I love. But before that, we couldn't stop fighting. We kind of skipped the middle step.' Paul laughed at the same time I did at my last comment.

'You mean the step when we made up and became friends?' He asked, and we laughed again.

'Yes.' I replied with a smile, before turning serious. 'So where does that leave us?'

Paul was quiet for a moment, before replying with a smile. 'In bed together.' I gave him an annoyed look, slapping him lightly on the chest.

'Paul,' I complained, which only made him grin wider. I frowned, squirming, trying to twist away from him. He relaxed his grip enough for me to roll away a few inches, and I gave him a stern look. I glared at him for a second, before he suddenly moved, his lightning fast hands grabbing my waist and pulling me before I could react. I let out a soft gasp of surprise, temporarily disoriented by the flurry of movement.

Just as quickly, the world settled back into place. I was now on top of Paul, my legs straddling his stomach. He sat upwards, one hand on the small of my back to stop me from falling over, and once again our faces were just inches away from one another. I opened my mouth to scold him, but he placed a finger over my lips before I could speak. I was distracted by the warmth, and as my eyes met his intense gaze, my protests died in my throat.

'It leaves us together.' With his eyes burning into me, emotion filling his stare, I knew that he didn't mean together like he had in his last comment. He meant _together_. We were a pair. We were a couple. Imprinted. Connected. Together.

My mind was a confusing whirlwind of terms, my delight and happiness muddling my thoughts so that nothing made sense. Paul's finger was now tracing the shape of my lips, and my eyes were wide as I gazed at him, my senses overwhelmed, my nerves on fire. I was hyper aware of everything; of Paul's bare chest beneath my hands, of my legs wrapped around him, of his hand on my back, the warmth burning through my shirt like I wasn't wearing one.

I loved these moments. Moments when Paul was just _everywhere_, overloading my senses, the only thing I could focus on. Moments when my body was blazing with desire, consumed by sensation. Moments when Paul and I were so incredibly in sync, we could be the same person.

We moved at the same time, his hand shifting from my mouth to run through my hair, my hand sliding up to the back of his neck and gripping it. Our lips met in a searing kiss, one that left my whole body thrumming with energy, his hot lips spreading heat that travelled right through me. The imprint bond, for lack of a better word, was pulsing, forcing me closer to Paul, enhancing everything tenfold, and sending waves of pleasure rolling through me.

Every part of me was revelling in this. In his hard body pressed against me. In his warm, strong arm around my waist.

In the indescribable pleasure that was his gentle lips against mine.

* * *

I wasn't sure how much time passed while Paul and I kissed. There was nothing but him, nothing else even remotely important when his lips were touching mine. My body had melted, the thrill of his touch leaving me numb with feeling. But eventually, as I curled into him, eyes fluttering sleepily, I slowly came back to reality.

I was half asleep already, Paul's warmth soaking into me and driving me to rest. My brain and all semblance of reason had long since abandoned me, and I knew I was just moments away from unconsciousness. But without me actually deciding to speak, I found my mouth forming words, words that didn't register with me at all. Yet they came, whispered and soft, of their own accord.

'You know I'll tell you one day.' Lost in the slowly consuming darkness, I didn't notice the sudden tensing of Paul's body. I didn't hear his hitched breath, or feel his arms tighten around me.

'I still don't know why you want to know.' My eyes were fully closed now, and I was breathing in Paul, loving the feeling of my cheek against his chest. 'But I'll tell you. If I can.'

I was still out of it, and didn't hear the growl that rumbled from Paul's throat. I was quiet then, and as I grew so close to sleep I was just seconds away from passing out, I felt sure that my rambling was over. But I was wrong, and once again the words bubbled to the surface, barely audible and quieter than a whisper.

'You're right, you know. About the memories.' Another growl, this one loud and dangerous. I was almost gone, and barely managed to whisper the final three words before I collapsed completely.

'They're killing me.'


	52. Calm

**Chapter 52 - Calm**

It was a bad night. It was sometime after midnight, and I'd spent the last 25 minutes trying to convince myself that I was perfectly safe in Paul's arms.

It wasn't working.

I was sure that I'd seen Demetri several times, lurking in the corner, climbing through the window, standing over me. The walls were closing in, and the air was thick; I couldn't shake the feeling that I was slowly suffocating. My breaths were deep and heaving, fast and frantic, but I just couldn't seem to relieve the pressure. It was like someone was flattening my lungs, strangling me.

Then there was the nightmare. I couldn't get it out of my head. Couldn't calm myself down. My heart was pounding, almost fast enough to leap out of my chest, and I couldn't stop the shivers of feared that rolled through me every few minutes. Fear had me in a choke hold, and this time, I couldn't seem to escape its deadly grasp.

It was too much.

Gasping wildly, I managed extract myself from Paul's arms, which was a miracle in itself considering how tightly he was holding me. But even more amazing was the fact that despite my rolling motions and impending panic attack, he was still asleep.

I was trying to keep it under control, to squash my emotions down and regain my normal, calm demeanour. But I knew I wasn't doing a very good job. Quite the opposite. I could feel the panic growing, squeezing painfully in my chest as staggered downstairs.

Maybe he was just so used to it that I didn't register with him anymore. I inwardly cringed at that; what a depressing line of thought. But it wouldn't surprise me; my panics were hardly rare. Maybe he was just sleeping like a normal person, and my emotions weren't strong enough. I doubted it. Unless I was doing a much better job than I thought, he was getting more than enough fear.

And then there was the third option.

Maybe he just didn't care. I couldn't stop the sad whine that escaped me, steadying myself against the wall. The thought hit me like a sledgehammer, crushing what remained of my lungs, clenching around my heart. Pain seared through me, a sudden sense of emptiness consuming me. No. No. He cared. I knew he did. But that knowledge couldn't stop my emotions from bursting inside of me and flooding me like a tidal wave.

I burst out of the front door like the house was about to collapse on top of me, heaving a huge breath of air that was laced with the smell of rain. Almost falling down the porch steps, I stumbled out onto the grass, flinging my head back as I sucked in oxygen. Staring upwards, the sky was a black mass, the moon hidden behind the storm clouds.

No more walls. The walls were gone. I wasn't trapped. I was free. I could escape. The words were a litany in my head, a never ending stream of arguments for why I should just calm down. But they just weren't working.

Even as I stood there, inhaling like I'd never get the chance to breathe again, the urge to run, to move, to _get away_ was growing within me, more powerful than it had ever been before. I couldn't stand still, beginning to pace, my hands fidgeting with nothing, unable to remain motionless. I was beyond restless; I physically could not stay still.

_Run._

It was like he was whispering it in my ear, and I let out a pained whine, my pacing growing more ferocious and frantic by the second. No. I couldn't run. I didn't _need_ to run. He wasn't here.

But what if he was? No. He wasn't.

But what if- No.

But he- NO.

Throwing my arms into the air in frustration, I suppressed a growl, distractedly noting how bizarre it was that I wanted to growl in the first place.

The mental war was tearing me apart, both sides of me pulling in opposite directions. Two opposing forces, normal and out of control, happiness and fear, crashing into one another. Clawing at each other, melding into one confused and violent mess that was taking over my mind. I was borderline, both and neither.

I was almost lost.

I was pacing a circle in my backyard, my strides alternating between slow and hesitant, and fast and urgent. I was tugging hard, trying to pull myself back from the edge I was hanging onto by a thread. I could do this. I _would_ do this.

Calm down. That was all I needed to do. Just simply _calm down_. Shudders wracked through me as I circled, and it was only once the shaking became so intense my teeth began to chatter that I realised it was raining.

No, it wasn't just raining. It was _pouring_. I couldn't see anything, not even my hand when I held it up in front of my face. I was drenched, soaked to the bone, water cascading over me in torrents.

And it was _cold_. So, so cold. I was freezing, the water leeching all warmth from my body and stealing it away. My hands were like ice, my fingers numb as I combed my hair away from my face, the strands clumped together in thick tendrils. The tremors were increasing by the second, and I was rocking on my feet, my legs weak.

'What are you doing?'

I screamed, starting so violently that as I spun towards the source of the sound, my legs crumpled. I landed on the ground with a thump, all the air sucked out of me, panic blasting through the thin walls that were keeping me grounded. I let out a pained whine, eyes furiously scouring the rain for any sign of the man had just spoken.

It was him. Oh, god, it was _him_. I didn't know whether I was shaking from fear or cold; probably both. My whole body was trembling, my hands numb as I pushed myself into a sitting position, my breaths deep and urgent. This couldn't be happening. Surely I was just imagining it?! It was the last glimmer of hope I had, the last speck of reason.

And it shattered into pieces when I saw the figure materialise out of the rain just a few feet in front of me.

I threw myself back ward with a shriek, somehow managing to get back on my feet as I scrambled away. I was half-amazed half-impressed that I didn't immediately fall back down again; even as I staggered backwards, my legs felt about to give out. I was keeping myself up by will alone.

But as the figure continued walking forward, and fear seized control of me, all thoughts of collapsing flew from my mind. I could focus on only one thing.

Demetri.

His stride was full of purpose, his eyes dangerously alight. His skin was eerily pale in the darkness, and a terrified squeak escaped me. I was barely a second away from turning and running, running for my life. But I couldn't tear my eyes away from his deadly gaze. He had me trapped just with a single look. I didn't want to move. Didn't want to see his eyes flicker to follow me, hardening as he realised what I intended.

But I couldn't stop myself when he began to speak, his terrifying words like blades as they cut through me.

'I told you you would never escape.' Another horrified exclamation escaped me as I spun, running through the rain as fast as I could. I couldn't see anything, the downpour suddenly increasing in intensity. The thunderous pounding of the rain was all I could hear, as my feet flew across the ground, the wind slamming into me without mercy.

I had to get away. I couldn't do this. Not again. I couldn't let him catch me.

But, as usual, fate was against me.

Hands grabbed at me, and I let out a terrified scream, fighting the arm that was around my waist. I pushed myself off his chest, frantic, heart racing as I jerked backwards. Somehow I broke through his hold, and I turned to run in the other direction, almost out of reach when his hand snagged my wrist.

I let out a wail, resisting as he yanked me back, my right hand scrabbling at his unbreakable grip. My nails clawed at him, my breaths hitching in my throat as I flailed, pulling with all my might. Twisting awkwardly, I once again slipped through his fingers, dancing out of his reach and sprinting away.

'No. No. Not again. Can't. I can't.' I hadn't realised I was muttering under my breath, breathless words of desperation that were coming from god knows where. I wasn't even consciously speaking; my mind had disintegrated, panic scrambling me up. All I could focus on was getting away.

I slammed into a body, all the breath whooshing out of me. I would have fallen over if strong hands hadn't grabbed me, locking around my arms and holding me fixed in place. I struggled, trying to move backwards, but I couldn't break his hold. My legs were shaking at I tried to hold myself upright; I still trying to wriggle away despite knowing that the most I would achieve would be collapsing on the ground.

My breaths were whistling through my wheezing lungs, my eyes frozen as wide as they could go as I stared up at him. I was trembling, my heart stuttering in time with the shivers that wracked my body. I whimpered as his hand clamped down on my shoulder, and he locked his evil gaze with my own terrified one.

As he opened his mouth, I expected to find myself crumpling from the power his words oozed, from the fear that wormed its way through me every time he spoke. But the voice that spoke wasn't his.

'**Calm. Down.**' The voice slammed into me, physically pushing me to the ground. My legs gave out as the power blasted through me, squashing the air from my lungs, burning through my mind and wiping it clean of all thought. The power was like that which I had never felt, so palpable, so intense; it wasn't words he spoke; it was a command. His voice was everywhere, deep, booming, _dominant_.

I didn't know who was holding me up; I knew I certainly wasn't. I was nowhere and everywhere, disoriented to the point that the world was a dark blur, and I couldn't have told you which was way was up or down. I couldn't think; it was like someone had taken my brain, and all that was left was the most basic of thoughts, my most basic instincts.

I felt hollow. The power had forced every sliver of fear from my body, destroyed every inch of desperation. Every hint of pain, every curl of anger, torn from me in a single moment.

For the first time in months, I was completely, overwhelmingly, _calm_.

And Paul. Paul, whose emotions I could feel constantly; he was gone. The imprint so dilute that I could barely feel him at all. I was empty; empty of him; empty of my emotions.

Empty of _everything_.


	53. Mine

**Chapter 53 - Mine**

_Paul's POV_

_They're killing me_.

I couldn't get those words out of my head. Words that had woken an irrepressible, unquenchable rage within me, a rage that had stolen control, and left my sanity in the dust.

I was clutching her to me as tightly as I could without hurting her, growls rumbling from my throat. Animal instinct had taken over, the wolf controlling my mind, and fighting to burst forth. Any other time it would have ripped through me, taking control of my body, morphing into the snarling predator. I was so close. So close to losing it. But a thread was holding me, holding my entire being in limbo.

It was her.

_Mine._

The wolf couldn't stand to move a single inch away from her. The wolf was going to protect its mate; wasn't going to let _anybody_ near her.

She was _mine_.

The wolf _needed_ to hold her, because only in my arms was she safe. The wolf was dying to kill the leech for touching her, but protecting its mate was more important.

The wolf's mate. My mate. Our mate.

My thoughts were so primal, so instinctual. It was clear the wolf had total control; and I should have phased long ago. The tremors were shaking through me, but the wolf was fighting itself. The wolf had accepted the imprint, and the imprint was forcing it, forcing _me_ towards her. It wasn't me that was torn; it was the wolf.

My mind was a wolf, my body a man. And that way it would stay, until something triggered a snap; a snap that would force my mismatched being into one or the other. The question was; which one?

It had been weeks, and my control over phasing had been bizarre. The imprint dominating the wolf to such an extent that it had no control whatsoever. The wolf had finally accepted her as our mate, and had been consumed by her. But as she had grown better, and the imprint pull had slowly, slightly waned, the wolf had begun to fight back.

The imprint had slackened by only the tiniest margin, but that was all the wolf had needed.

For now, the imprint had it. The imprint had me trussed up and chained to her so strongly, so tightly, that she was an extension of me. But the wolf was clawing at it, its anger irrepressible, unbreakable.

And soon the wolf was going to break through completely.

* * *

Hours passed, and the trembling ceased, but the wolf had as much control as ever. It had taken over my mind, but not my body. It didn't have the power, the strength, the need necessary to blast through the iron grasp of the imprint.

But I knew it was inevitable. Like her, her memories slowly but surely hacking away until she broke, the wolf was hacking away at me.

All it would take was a trigger. An action, a word. Something that would cause me to snap, something to send me barrelling over the edge.

It was only a matter of time.

But until it happened, until the wolf came surging forth, it was stuck in my mind. I was under its control, filled with its thoughts.

And t couldn't stop thinking about the subject that tortured me the most.

_What had he done to her?_

* * *

I shouldn't have been surprised that when I finally fell asleep, my dreams were haunted with my minds terrible imaginings. An endless parade of tortures, each just as bad as the last, all inflicted on my imprint as her earth shattering screams tore through me.

Her screams. It was like being stabbed in the stomach, like having my heart torn out of my chest. Unbearable to listen to, and impossible to shut out.

Impossible to forget.

I could do nothing. I fought; I fought harder than I would if my own life was at stake. But every time, I was forced to watch her dragged away, forced to snarl as she was snatched from my arms.

And forced to listen as her screams once more ripped through the air.

Every time, experiencing the bone aching emptiness, the piercing loss as she was taken. My heart exploding, disintegrating, burning from the pain of losing her. Consumed by it, possessed with no other thoughts, no other intentions but one.

Get. Her. Back.

Protective didn't even cover it. Protective was nothing compared to what I became. It was tunnel vision; I could focus on her, and nothing else. If someone touched her, they were dead. If anyone went near her, they would pay.

She. Was. Mine.

It was a frenzy, all the more fuelled by her never-ending shrieks, her torturous screams.

And it was at that moment that her _real_ scream of terror sliced through me like poisoned dagger, ripping through the dream and slamming me into my body mercilessly. I was on my feet and heading downstairs before I had time to blink, a furious growl roaring through the house. Her fear blasting through me, burning away everything but my need to get to her, to get to her _now_.

I was out of the house faster than a bullet from a gun, the imprint bond constricting me, yanking me towards her. Her emotions were a tsunami, flooding through me with such ferocity that I no longer knew what was hers and what was mine. I needed her, every fibre of my being reaching out.

She was mine.

And she was running right towards me. I could feel her, so close I could almost touch her. She materialised from the downpour, running for her life across the yard, feet flying, her desperation so palpable I almost burst.

_Mine_.

She was in my arms. Freezing, terrified, but mine. There was an instant of relief, an instant of fulfilment as the aching loss was banished by her touch.

And then came the scream. I grunted from the pain, whining as agony seared through me. Her fingers tore at me, pushing at my chest and arms, as she staggered away like she'd been shot. I lunged for her, needing her in my arms. The wolf was frantic with possessiveness, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to the only place she was safe.

She wailed, a sound that left the wolf huddling in the corner of my mind, whining. I had done that. I had hurt her. Reason burst to life, and I processed everything in barely a second. I saw in her eyes the terror that was reserved for that bastard. I saw her recoil from arms she saw as a prison. I recognised her complete and utter desperation.

She was not here. She was in her mind. She thought I was _him_.

She clawed at me, slipping out of my arms. Another growl, a mixture of anger and pain. She sprinted away, and the separation burned me, a hot brand on my heart.

Mine.

I would protect her from him. I would protect her from herself. I was running after her, unstoppable in my mission.

Until the gust of wind sent her terrified scent washing over me, accompanied with another that was all too familiar. Someone I should have sensed, should have known was there, but hadn't.

The scent of the alpha left me momentarily stunned.

Sam was here. A million questions popped into my head, but were smothered by the shear dominance and power that the imprint. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was even remotely important until she was in my arms.

I was after her once more, running through the rain, unable to see her but _knowing_ she was just feet away. I cringed at her muttered pleas, whispers that I knew would haunt my mind for days to come. Time seemed to slow as I found her figure through the sheets of rain, saw her shape appear in the darkness.

I saw the tall figure standing over her, and knew that that was the alpha holding onto my imprint. The wolf wanted to punch him for touching her. Nobody was allowed to tough her, not when she was like this. But he was the alpha, and I couldn't attack the alpha. The wolf was conflicted, I was conflicted, and all I knew for sure was that I needed her, and then everything would make sense.

But everything flew out the window when Sam spoke.

'**Calm. Down.**'

It was like being run into by a bulldozer. I staggered, feeling as if the whole world was pushing on my shoulders, slamming me into the ground. I growled, keeping my feet, but barely.

After all, it was no easy thing to resist the weight of the alpha.

I had been alpha ordered many times before, frequently in the last month; the leech would have been dead long ago if Sam hadn't forbidden me from leaving our land. But this order was different. It blasted through me, ten times stronger than any alpha order Sam had given me before. The raw power, the _dominance_, was unshakable.

Unshakable, and irresistible. It was instinct to fight the order; in the last month, all of the injunctions had been against my will. But this time, my will crumpled to dust beneath the pure force beneath his words.

I stood no chance. I had obeyed before my brain had even had time to process it, to decide to resist. In a single instant, I found myself sucked dry of all my roiling emotions, every last shred of rage, anger, and ferocity vanquished by his two words.

And they hadn't even been directed at me.

They had been for _her_.

I was reeling, the whole thing incomprehensible. Her explosive emotions had been destroyed along with mine, the bond between us calm for the first time in weeks. The emptiness was startling, shocking. Used to feeling her, so completely, so deeply, that she was an extension of me. And now she was almost gone; the bond empty of emotion.

For the first time since that week, she was truly _calm_.

Sam had alpha ordered my imprint, and she had _obeyed_.

And so had I.


	54. Ordered

**Chapter 54 - Ordered**

_Chloe's POV_

I was in a daze. The calmness was so foreign, so strange; my own mind was now unfamiliar. The lack of emotion left me hollow, left me empty, left me with _nothing_. It made no sense, no sense whatsoever; I should not miss the panic, the fear, the hurt. And I didn't. It was what accompanied it – anger, frustration – that I missed. I lived by my emotions; I thrived on my passion, throwing myself into every situation. And now they were gone, and it felt like _I _was gone.

Like the order had taken my consciousness, instead of just my emotion. I knew it was irrational. I knew it was stupid, that once I had it all back I wouldn't want it. But reason did not rule me, emotion did, and what little shreds that remained yearned for it back.

Because the absence was crippling. I didn't know who to be. Who was I, without my emotion? There was nothing to drive me, nothing to control me. Whether I was driven my anger, or enjoyment, or pain, or entertainment, it didn't matter; it was me. Living with pain may not be the best way to live, but living with no feeling wasn't living at all. Given the choice, I would take all my emotions back; better that than this, this _zombie_ that had replaced me.

But it wasn't my choice. It was Sam's.

I shouldn't be angry. It had been a kindness for him to free me from my waking dream, from the living nightmare that had claimed me. I had wanted out, and he had helped me. But being ordered scared me. Whether I agreed with it or not wasn't the problem; it was the fact that I hadn't had a choice.

Like I hadn't had a choice when Demetri decided he wanted my blood, and would do anything to get it.

Despite my rationalising, I couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the anger that bubbled to life, fuelled by my fear of orders, of no choices, of being controlled.

I couldn't stop it. But the order could.

The alpha order, squashing down the slight beginning of anger before it had time to even fully develop. The command that stopped me from growing irritated, as it repeatedly decimated my emotions.

I was angry at an order that stopped me being angry. An endless circle, one that I couldn't break.

Damn.

* * *

In my brain dead state, I would have been content to remain in my daze, not really caring about the world around me.

But like an electric shock, Paul's touch seared through me, his warmth burning skin that was numb from cold. A light smile graced my lips as pulled me up into his arms, pressing me close to his chest; my favourite place to be. Pleasured stirred within me, for once my emotion not being eradicated by the ever present alpha command. Finally.

Waking from my daze was hard, like wading through a river with a merciless current. I was constantly under threat of being pushed back under, knowing it would be easier to go back to nothingness. But I fought it, not wanting to be hollow, not wanting to be trapped. And my motivation only grew as snippets of conversation made their way into my jumbled mind.

'What the hell did you _do_?' Paul's voice pierced through the fog surrounding me, and I snuggled closer to him.

'I gave her an order.' Sam replied.

'_Why?_' I had to agree with Paul; why _had_ Sam decided to order me?

'Because she was having a panic attack, and you were ready to claw someone's head off.'

'And that was the only thing you could think of?'

'I didn't think. I acted on instinct. And it worked.' Paul didn't seem to like that response, a low growl rumbling from his throat. I was slowly emerging from my daze, and as consciousness returned, I slowly realized that I could no longer feel Paul's emotions. A vague annoyance, but that was all.

'Worked? You slammed both of us with an order ten times stronger than any others you've given me, and now she's pretty much passed out!' Paul sounded angry, but I could feel only the slightest sliver of anger through the bond, before it disappeared.

Wait, what? _Both_ of us?

'It affected you?'

'Like you'd given it to me directly.' Wait, Paul was ordered as well? I was momentarily stunned, but really, it wasn't that unbelievable. We were tied together so strongly, it almost made sense that when I got ordered, Paul did too.

What didn't make sense was why the order had affected me to begin with.

'I still don't understand why it worked in the first place.' Paul said, sounding exasperated. Not for the first time, I questioned whether or not Paul could actually read my mind. There was a silence, and I wondered at Sam's lack of response.

'You know something...' Paul said slowly, a question implied by his suspicious tone. There was another silence, before Sam spoke.

'As alpha, I have sense of each pack member, even as a human.' My breath hitched, my interest peaked. Whether they noticed, I couldn't tell.

'I have never been able to sense the imprints. They are not wolves, and not part of the pack connection.'

'But I can sense _her_.'

Ok, so Paul being connected to me made sense. We were imprints, with everything that entailed. But the fact that our imprint was strong enough that _Sam_ could sense me was incredible.

Even weirder was the fact that I could sense Sam back. Despite my panic, I had _known_ it was Sam speaking to me earlier.

'So, because of the imprint, I'm part of the pack?' I asked, my voice muffled due to being curled into Paul's chest. Pulling away slightly, and opening my eyes, my gaze found Sam. He was seated under the veranda opposite Paul and I, a thoughtful expression on his face.

'You said the order was strong.' Sam said, looking at Paul, who agreed with a nod. Sam thought for a moment, before speaking again.

'I put barely any power into it.' Both Paul and I stared at Sam in shock.

'Seriously? That almost knocked me out.' Paul growled softly, burying his nose in my hair.

'It must be because you're human.' Sam suggested, before frowning. 'Though it doesn't explain why it was strong for you, Paul.' He gave both of us an appraising glance.

'Probably because of the imprint.' I murmured, melting against Paul. The warmth was intoxicating after the cold rain, and I was feeling the effects of the order, my limbs leaden.

Sam laughed softly at my remark. 'The imprint has changed everything.'

'I'm starting to think it should have come with instructions.' I said sleepily. 'Maybe we should check the library.' A fog was descending over my brain, and my eyelids flickered. I felt Paul stiffen beneath me in response to my words.

'Do the elders have anything?' Paul asked Sam, and it was with a detached surprise that I noted my joking remark had actually been a good idea.

'I don't know. I looked through some of their old books when I first phased, and didn't find anything on this. But there may be something.'

I couldn't even get excited at the prospect of an explanation. The river I had fought to get away from the emptiness was overwhelming; it was pulling me back under, the words of whoever was speaking naught but inaudible sounds. Exhaustion crashed over me in a wave, my eyes closing of their own accord.

And then I was gone; dead to the world once more.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

To have my imprint asleep in my arms shouldn't give me so much satisfaction, but the feeling of contentment that it gave me wasn't driven by reason. She moulded against me, her heart pounding against my chest. Her sweet smell of rose and jasmine was intoxicating, soothing me just as much as her gentle touch.

But despite the calm that settled over me at having her close, I couldn't relax. I could barely feel her, and the loss was crushing, the imprint bond so weak, it almost wasn't there. I didn't know how the others did it; how could they live, how could they stand not feeling their imprints every second of the day? No, I couldn't relax. Not with the bond strangely empty, not with Sam's gaze assessing me as he debated whether or not to speak.

'You're not dealing with her outbursts well.' Sam finally said, staring at me intently. 'You came charging out of the house and looked ready to murder someone.'

I had no words to respond.

'I could feel it, even as I headed over here. You're losing control.'

I sighed. 'I know.' Sam raised his eyebrows at me.

'That's all you've got to say?'

'I can't stop it, Sam. When your imprint is terrified and starts screaming because she thinks she's being attacked by a vampire, control isn't exactly at the forefront of your mind.'

He gave me a sympathetic look, but his expression hardened. 'It's dangerous.'

'You think I'm not going to go near her when she needs me most?'

'Paul-'

'I know it's dangerous. The only thing stopping me from phasing every time she panics is the imprint, and even then, the wolf is fighting back.' I growled slightly in frustration. 'I have no control. But I can't stop it.'

Sam gave me another long look, but didn't protest. He had an imprint, and he had access to my thoughts; he knew, as well as I did, that control was a distant dream when it came to her in pain. There was silence while Sam seemed to carefully consider something, before finally speaking.

'She still hasn't told you anything?' My expression hardened.

'No.' I managed to push back the growl that threatened to emerge. This was a dangerous topic, and Sam knew it. It set us all on edge, thinking about that week. Thinking about what had happened, what the leech had done. Constantly wondering, imagining.

'Paul-'

'I'm _not_ asking.' This was an old debate, an argument we'd had many times before.

'We need to know.'

'Know why he took her and _tortured her?_ Why he tried to _kill_ her?' I couldn't supress the growl now, dangerous and deep within me.

'If this was a strike against the pack, we need to prepare. We need to know why he chose _her_. And we need to know why she's _absolutely certain_ that he's coming back.' Order or no, if Sam kept this up, the command wouldn't be able to supress my rage. I hugged Chloe closer to my chest, needing to assure myself of her safety.

'I won't ask.' I stated, giving him a level stare. 'But…' Sam gave me a look of confusion and intrigue.

'But?'

'She said she was going to tell me.' My words were barely audible through the loud growls that emerged. Sam looked at me with caution, unable to determine the reason behind my snarling. But it didn't stop him from asking the question I could see in his eyes.

'Why?' Sam's surprise was expected. He knew, as well as I did, how determined she was not to speak of it.

'She told me I was right. That her memories were killing her.' I could barely say the words, words that were no more than whisper. It was a fight to keep control. Even with the order to stay calm, my emotions were growing. The thought of her _death_ was unbearable, left me gasping for breath and cringing at the agony.

'Paul.' Sam's voice was low, dangerous. A warning. A warning that my imprint was in my arms, and that I could not get angry, could not hurt her.

'I didn't even tell her that. She just _knew_. She used my exact words.' I didn't know why this confused me so much; why it left me bewildered and stunned. Maybe it was because I hadn't expected her to quote something I had only thought, something I hadn't told her. Maybe it was because I didn't expect her to agree with me.

Or maybe it was because I just couldn't process the fact that I could lose her, just when it seemed I would finally get to keep her.


	55. Knives

**Chapter 55 - Knives**

_Chloe's POV_

I woke up alone, for a few moments experiencing the disorienting feeling of having no idea where I was. But as I sat up and stared around me, and my eyes traced the familiar furniture of my bedroom, I was stricken with awareness.

Home. A thought that should have given me comfort, should have stirred up happy memories. Instead I found myself unable to stop my eyes from scanning the room, checking for intruders. Oh well; some things never change.

But even as I slid from bed, brushing my hair out of my face, a small part of the strange feeling remained. A feeling of confusion, a feeling of… emptiness. That was it. I felt empty. And not physically; emotionally. With a frown, I remembered the alpha order. Did these things usually stay in affect this long?

I didn't mind, not really. It was a relief to escape the fear, the pain, the panic. But the hollowness, the nothingness… I didn't like it. Not one bit. And as stupid as it sounded, I kind of wanted the fear back, just to get rid of it.

If only I had the choice. You couldn't just get rid of an order; the alpha's had the alpha voice for a reason. I'd have to wait until it wore off.

Meh. There were plenty worse things than being calm. Plus, for the first time in a while, I'd woken up normally, and not from the midst of a nightmare; the world always looked so much nicer when I wasn't quivering from panic. Even stranger was the fact that I felt rested, for once. I couldn't recall waking up at all after the rain incident; could it be that I'd slept the whole night through? Wow.

Two good things in one morning; it was no wonder my spirits soared.

If only Paul was here. Paul, who thanks to the order, I could barely feel. His absence, the gap left behind; it was almost as bad as not feeling my own emotions. Now that he wasn't there, I realised just how much I needed to feel him. I ached for him, and I found myself staring off in the direction I knew he was in, not seeing him, but knowing he was there.

Soon. I would see him soon.

And until then, I was going to enjoy being happy.

* * *

After last night's soaking, the shower was a heavenly experience. No longer smelling like rain, and with half-way decent hair, my good mood matched my white lace top and denim shorts. Embracing my happiness, I trooped downstairs, a slight bounce in my step and a small smile on my lips. Half my brain was already sifting through the pantry as I headed into the kitchen, searching for a mouth-watering breakfast.

But all thoughts of jam fled from my mind the moment I turned corner.

There were two werewolves in my kitchen.

I stopped in my tracks, blinking. Any other day I would have freaked. But not today.

It looked like I'd finally found a good use for the order.

With a slight shrug, I continued towards the pantry, nudging Embry out of the way with an elbow. He held a piece of toast in his hands, and I plucked it from his fingers as I took in his slightly shocked expression. Happily munching on my newly acquired food source, I plopped myself down on the counter, staring at the unknown wolf opposite for me.

'What a poor choice of spread for your toast Embry. You can't have looked through the pantry for long.' I remarked, licking the butter from my fingers. Both of the wolves were giving me looks, and I could have sworn they exchanged a glance. Enjoying their discomfort and confusion, I maintained my gaze on the mystery male.

That he was a pack member was obvious. If the height hadn't given him away, his shirtless state and muscled upper body would have. I couldn't recall Paul mentioning any new members, and I was sure I'd met all of the others. So who was he?

'You're in a strange mood.' Embry observed, and I gave him a sneaky grin.

'Who's the newbie?' I jerked my thumb at the still silent werewolf. Embry laughed, turning away from the pantry with his chosen snack.

'Seth.' I was surprised to hear a voice come from behind me; I turned back to see the wolf – now Seth – was the one who had spoken.

'He speaks!' I exclaimed, taking another bite of my toast. Another exchanged glance. I stole more food from Embry. He growled, slapping my hand away.

'I was here first.' He stated, moving out of reach.

'My kitchen. My rules.' I retorted, to which they both laughed. My comment left me pondering a question that I'd repressed upon first seeing them in my house; why were they here? Deciding to see what would happen if I continued to seem unfazed by their presence, I repressed a smirk.

This could be fun.

'So Seth…' I mused, supressing a grin at his vaguely alarmed expression.

'What do you think is better; Christmas or Easter?' I asked seriously, to which he heaved a sigh of relief. I felt bad; here I was, interrogating innocent Seth, when there was a snickering Embry just feet away.

'Christmas.' Seth answered happily, and I smiled before replying. 'Of course it is.'

I turned to face Embry, who smirked. '_Somebody_ looks awfully smug. You, my friend, look guilty as hell.' I said, as I jabbed a finger at him, sliding off the counter. 'Spill.'

His grin didn't waver. 'What makes you think I'm hiding something?'

'Oh so, you _are_ hiding something?' I replied mischievously, raising my eyebrows at Embry as he moved around the counter so that it was in between us. Seth couldn't seem to figure out what the hell was going on, but was watching our exchange with fascination.

'_Even_ if I had a secret, I wouldn't tell _you_.' His eyes were alight, and so were mine, with the promise of a challenge. I subtly opened the draw in front of me, careful to maintain eye contact.

'Is that a challenge?' I asked, unable to keep my satisfaction and excitement out of my tone. His smirk was still there, and I could never resist dare. I slipped my hand into draw, grabbing the object I was after.

'You won't get me to talk.' That was as much an invitation as anything. I pulled my hand out of the draw, brandishing the wooden spoon at him.

'Not even I if threaten you?' The two wolves laughed, and so did I; it was hardly the most menacing or dangerous weapon.

'A wooden spoon?' Embry said with disbelief. 'That's the best you've got?'

'I see your point.' I nodded thoughtfully, before bending down and opening more drawers and cupboards.

'What about a spatula?' I proposed, holding it up in the air. I pointed it at Embry, whose laughter once more rang across the room.

'I guess that's a no.' I said, throwing it at his head. He ducked, of course, and I poked my tongue out at him. Opening more drawers, I bit my lip to contain my excited squeak.

Wrapping my hand around the hilt, I stood up, holding the knife casually in my right hand. Its sharp blade sticking up towards the ceiling, its point was level with my chin and about a foot away from me.

'What about this?' I said, my excitement palpable, brandishing it in their direction, the silver glinting in the light. My eyes and grin lit up watching their expressions change from amusement to alarm.

'Chloe.' Embry said warningly, all of his joking gone. They had both snapped into immediate alertness, Seth somehow having stood up from his chair without me noticing. Embry was slowly edging around the kitchen counter, both wolves eyes trained on the knife as I waved it gently.

'Ready to talk yet?' My gleeful taunt was at odds with the atmosphere, neither of the two even smiling anymore. Embry was still approaching me at a snail's pace, clearly intending on disarming me of the knife as soon as possible.

'Chloe, put down the knife.' Embry's voice left no room for argument. I sighed, frowning.

'You know, I'm not an invalid. You don't need to keep me away from sharp objects just because I might stab myself with them.' He was just 2 feet away, the knife between us. He might as well have not heard my words, for all the affect they had on him. A quick glance behind me told me Seth was moving closer.

'Give me the knife.' Embry was persistent, I'd give him that.

'Make me.' Finally, a smile. But I didn't get the time to enjoy it.

Embry was _fast_. I barely had time to take a step back and pull my hand away before he was on me, one hand trapping me against the counter, the other carefully removing the knife from my hand. It was over in just seconds, Embry casually tossing the knife to Seth, and I growled in response.

'Oh, come on! I'm not allowed to _hold_ a knife, but you two are allowed to _throw_ them at one another?' Now Embry was smirking again, and I glared.

'We have fast healing. You don't.' I almost, _almost_ retorted that a few weeks ago, I had in fact had fast healing, and had been subjected to things far more dangerous than throwing knives. But my heart seized up, the words lodging painfully in my throat. The order slammed down the fear and panic, and my breaths, which had stopped with a hitch, returned.

Unable to come up with anything to say, and seeing the glimmer of concern in Embry as he noticed my reaction, I settled for intensifying my glare as I scrambled for words. But it was weak, what little annoyance I'd actually managed to develop once more decimated by the alpha command.

'So?' I finally managed to say, almost pulling off normal. Not the most eloquent response, but at least it was something.

I expected a joking response from Embry. I _hoped_ for a joking response, because it meant no one was going to press me about what had and hadn't happened with a certain vampire.

'That, there, is precisely the reason why we're here.' Damn. While the words were joking, his demeanour certainly wasn't. I was going to have to think fast to avoid this. And just when I needed it, a stroke of inspiration hit me.

'Knife throwing?' I said with a smile, my voice teasing. He almost laughed. Almost being the key word.

'To protect you. To watch out for you.' And there it was. He'd finally said it out loud; the wolves didn't trust me on my own. And to be honest, I couldn't blame them. _I_ didn't even trust me; there was no telling when I'd snap.

I stared at Embry thoughtfully. He and Seth looked like they were expecting an explosion. That was a tad insulting. I was unstable, sure, but I wasn't about to fall to pieces. Had my knife wielding not made it clear that now, right this second, I was, for once, happy?

I guess I'd have to convince them.

'Some secret. You're terrible at keeping your mouth closed Embry.' I teased, smiling. Leaning against the bench behind me, I smiled again at his slightly confused expression.

'You could have least put up a fight. What happened to "You won't get me to talk."?' I asked, as the two wolves finally caught on.

'She has a point, Embry. It took her, what, a minute, to get that out of you?' Seth put in, and my smile turned into more of a smirk.

'And I didn't even get to use my best weapon.' I complained lightly, unable to repress a devious grin. Once again, I was rewarded with two deeply suspicious stares, and Embry took a step forward.

I spun, effortlessly reaching towards the knife rack beside the sink. With a satisfying snick, I removed the most dastardly looking blade, its serrated edge impressively deadly. The blade almost twice as long as that on the knife that Embry had just confiscated, their expressions of alarm were nothing compared to before. They looked afraid to move, and my eyes lit up at the sense of power I felt; it wasn't often I made a werewolf wary to approach me.

'Makes the other one look like a butter knife, doesn't it?' I mused, and my words seemed to snap them out of their shock.

They lurched into action, but I was ahead of them; I had positioned myself at the edge of the kitchen, and dashed around the corner before they could slip around the counter. I knew I had just moments; my head start had nothing on their enhanced speed.

Taking a short cut through our two door bathroom, I was at the back door in a few seconds, flinging it open and racing from the house. I thought I heard someone swear behind me, and I laughed; a vibrant, enthralling laugh. I didn't know why I was enjoying it all so much; maybe it was because happiness and humour seemed to be the things least affected by the order, or maybe it was because all other emotions had long since been squashed.

It didn't really matter. All that mattered was the consuming joy, the ridiculous fun, that I was having with right this very moment.

And my delight was only enhanced by the voice that came from my behind me. It was warm, deep, smooth; one that I would recognise anywhere. One that I could listen to for hours. One that I loved.

'Chloe.'

I skidded to stop, spinning to face him, my hair whipping around me in a fan. I lit up with a grin, striding towards Paul, who from the looks of it had just emerged from the trees bordering the house. He looked just as pleased to see me, as he headed in my direction; with his large steps, he was in front of me in just seconds. His eyes flickered to the knife in my right hand, and he smiled.

'Is that a knife?' He didn't sound worried at all; only intrigued and amused. He chuckled as I held it up with an even bigger grin.

'Yep. I was going to attack Embry with it.' He laughed again, and so did I. Perfectly on cue, Seth and Embry caught up to us, looking irritated and relieved; they seemed certain that Paul would be swiftly taking away my weapon.

'Paul, your imprint is crazy.' Embry said, speaking as if I wasn't there. I growled, turning away from Paul and playfully waving the knife in Embry's direction. Almost in the same instant, Paul was behind me, his left arm around my waist and pulling me against him. Restraining me, but leaving me with the knife, and still within reach of Embry.

'I am _not_ crazy. I prefer the terms 'spontaneous', 'quirky', or-'

'Dangerous?' Embry cut in, with a slight smile, which I returned.

'_Not_ was I going to say,' I said somewhat defensively, before softening. 'But I like it.'

Embry groaned. 'Of course you do.' Paul laughed quietly.

'You don't think that I'm dangerous?' I accused lightly, brandishing the knife.

'With that thing? Yes. But you're forgetting that we're all superhuman. We'd heal.'

'Are you sure? We could test it.' I couldn't stop the excited gleam form lighting up my eyes.

In an instant, the knife was snatched from my hand.

'Hey!' I protested, crying out in dismay. I hadn't even seen him move; it just suddenly vanished. With a pout, I spun, Paul's arm around my waist loosening to allow the movement. I noticed in my peripheral vision that Embry and Seth were retreating, and shot them a glare that they didn't see. Not wanting to waste time on them, I snapped my attention back to what was really important; getting the knife back.

I wasn't sure what I expected to see when I turned around. Paul with a knife? Yes. Paul looking pleased with himself? Probably. Paul offering me the knife? Unlikely.

I certainly didn't expect to turn around and find the knife right in front of me, its point aimed wickedly at my throat.


	56. Attack

**Chapter 56 - Attack**

I certainly didn't expect to turn around and find the knife right in front of me, its point aimed wickedly at my throat.

I would have skewered myself on it if not for Paul; his free hand keeping me just out of reach, while the other threatened me with the deadly blade. I gasped, my eyes glued to the knife glinting in the sun. My heart stuttered, my eyes widening, alarm flooding through me. And as always, the alpha order made itself known, smashing my growing panic into smithereens.

It all happened in barely a second. A second full of emotion, and then full of nothing. Another second, where my eyes darted from the blade, to Paul's grin, and then back again. And one more second, for Paul's voice to slice through the ice that had frozen my brain.

'Looking for something?' Three words. So innocent. So normal. But this situation was anything but. And then came the only thing that the order didn't repress, couldn't repress; delight. The smile came, lighting me up, my eyes aglow and a laugh bubbling through me. Things that all should've been out of place, but somehow weren't.

There was just something about being threatened by Paul, about being dominated by him, that sparked an uncontrollable, overwhelming response. A response of elation, of pleasure, of happiness. A response that left me grinning, left me flooded with enjoyment. No matter how irrational, or illogical, it might be.

And in spite of that, or perhaps because if it, I loved it.

'You stole my knife.' I said playfully, with just a touch of complaint. Paul grinned.

'You were going to stab Embry.'

'I was not.' I protested, and Paul's smile grew. 'And that's a weak excuse.' I added.

'And what would be a better one?'

'Well, certainly not anything to do with _my _safety.'

'Why not?'

'You're pointing a knife at me.' We both grinned.

'So I am.' He tilted his head to the side with a sly smile. 'But you don't look very worried.'

Now it was my turn to smile. 'I'm not.' Feeling bold, I took a step forward. Faster than my eye could see, the knife moved, its sharp, serrated edge now just millimetres from my throat. Now pressed against Paul, I felt the arm around me tighten; he knew as well as I did that if I moved, I would soon have a line of blood across my neck.

'Not even now?' Paul breathed, his face just inches from mine. It was stupid, really, to even think about kissing Paul. I could almost feel the knife; feel it's cold steel against my neck. But I couldn't take my eyes off his lips. Locking my eyes with his, my hand snuck up to carefully grip the hilt of the knife, overlapping Paul's warm fingers. I wanted to kiss him.

But I wanted to win this battle of wills and words more.

I leaned in closer, entwining my fingers with his on the knife, my gaze not moving from Paul's.

And then I moved.

I threw myself forward, jerking the knife to the right and out of the way. Paul hissed in surprise, but kept his grip on the blade; damn those super strong werewolves. Not expecting my attack, my momentum sent Paul backwards, and with his arm locked around me, I fell with him. This wasn't going at all to plan.

The world was a confusing mess of shining silver, Paul, and the rapidly approaching ground. Clinging to the knife, and each other, we landed on the ground in a mess of limbs. Somehow, I ended up straddling his stomach, Paul on his back, the knife still held by both of us. There was a second of silence, as the impact stole my breath, but as I sucked in a huge gasp of air, I couldn't stop the laugh that rang out.

Paul smirked at me, seemingly unfazed by our sudden collapse. 'Nice try.'

I once more tried to steal back the knife, yanking at the hilt. Paul grinned at me, before effortlessly pulling the knife away, easily breaking my grip. I growled, slapping at his chest in annoyance and frustration. He laughed, amused at my glare. Dangling the knife teasingly in front of me, I lunged for it, collapsing on his chest as he pulled it out of reach. He held me down as I reached for it, and I whined, fighting at the arm that held me in place.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, I managed to slip through his hold. Breaking free, I sat up, my optimism towards winning this battle severely battered, what little remained about to crumble to dust. But there was a dim spark left, one I was prepared to use in one last attempt at the blade. I wasn't going to give up; not when there was still a chance. I was going to get that knife.

But my hopes were shattered in an instant, as with a devious grin, Paul tossed the knife away, the sun glinting off the silver blade as it was flung through the air.

'No!' I cried, growling as I glared at him, my displeasure at odds with Paul's satisfied grin. I lunged for his neck, my hands intent on exacting revenge.

I didn't get the chance.

I shrieked as I found myself suddenly jerked to the side, and it took my stunned brain a few moments to realise that the world wasn't spinning, but me. We were rolling across the grass, my legs still gripping Paul's sides, the breath constantly being pushed from me as we rolled again and again and again. I didn't know which way was up or down, the hands that had just seconds ago been trying to strangle Paul now clinging to his shoulders for dear life.

With a terrible lurch, we came to a stop, my back hitting the ground, pressed into it by Paul's weight. My breaths were heavy, the world still spinning slightly, the sky off kilter. With his body on top of mine, I was touching every part of him, my knees holding onto his sides, his head blocking out the blinding sunlight. Despite the disorientation, I was hyper aware of Paul's warm skin against mine, the contact exhilarating, his weight setting my nerves on edge and my heart racing.

I was a confused mix of dizziness and desire, until Paul's voice cut through the daze, bringing me crashing back to alertness.

'Give up yet?' His eyes glinted with amusement, his smile captivating. I gave him a breathy smile, my response automatic.

'No.'

There was a pause, where I stared at him and he stared at me, the world seeming to stop as our eyes met.

And then his lips were crushing against mine. Both my hands gripped his neck, as I pulled myself closer, deepening the kiss. Paul's lips were hot against mine as I gasped at the contact, my body moulding against him. I wanted, _needed_ to be closer, my whole body buzzing with the sparks of pleasure that were consuming me.

I could see nothing, feel nothing, except for him.

And it was _glorious_. Finally feeling, _really_ feeling; finally finding something that the order had no affect over. After the nothingness, the emptiness, the euphoria was staggering; overpowering me, taking control. Paul was back. I could feel him, the bond suddenly flaring into life, filling the void. And the elation was only growing, its intensity increasing as I kissed him, and he kissed me, his mouth slanting over mine. Somehow, his lips were both strong and soft, a thrilling combination of sensation that made me forget how to breathe. Breathing just didn't seem important, not in comparison.

But as my lungs began to burn, and my heart began to constrict, I was forced to break away, sucking in a wild gasp of air. I was immediately stricken with a burning craving for his lips, a primal need for the shivers his touch could elicit. I wondered briefly if it was possible to get addicted to kissing, before deciding I didn't care. I would gladly become addicted to this.

After barely a second, Paul's lips were once more attacking mine, and this time I could feel his need echoing my own, the new force and passion once more stealing my breath away. It was like fire, searing through my veins, spreading from my mouth to every part of my body. I had been set alight, and once again, only a desperate need for oxygen was able to separate me from his liquefying touch.

Letting my head fall back against the ground, a shudder rolled though me, his warmth spreading through me in a wave. I couldn't stop the slight smile that formed, as I revelled in the feeling of his body pressing down on mine. My gaze not leaving his burning stare, I saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he smiled at me, and I cocked my head to the side in a silent question.

'Did I hear you _growl_ before?' He said with a sliver of disbelief.

My grin widened, though I wasn't sure why. 'Yes.' He raised his eyebrows. 'I think I'm picking up some of your wolfishness.'

He laughed. 'Wolfishness?'

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. 'You have a better word?'

He shook his head. 'That's what I thought.' I said smugly. But despite my best efforts, my satisfaction was weak. The order was as strong as ever, and not even thrill of winning our banter could withstand it.

'The order will wear off eventually.' Paul said, now looking down at me sympathy. It didn't even occur to me to wonder how he knew what I'd been thinking about; he just did. He knew everything, felt everything. And it probably should have freaked me out, or annoyed me, or scared me, but it didn't. There was something wonderful about him understanding everything about me, without me having to find the words to explain it.

I sighed in response to his consolation, speaking quietly. 'I know.' My voice louder now, I continued. 'The question is, when?'

Paul considered for a moment, before speaking. 'I don't know. I was sure it would have worn off by now.' He sounded irritated, and I remembered with difficulty our conversation last night. He had been ordered as well; I guess he disliked just as much as I did.

It was then that I processed the words he had just spoken.

'By now? It's only been a couple of hours.' My voice showed my confusion, as I cocked my head to the side. However long it had been since last night didn't seem an excessive amount of time for the order to stick. However, Paul's eyes widened slightly at my comment, and I suddenly got an uncomfortable feeling that I was missing something important.

Giving me a careful, measured look, Paul spoke slowly.

'You don't know what day it is today, do you?' I raised my eyebrows, wondering why the hell this was relevant.

'Err, no.' I said slowly, almost as a question. As I spoke, another thought occurred to me, and I added with a slight smile, 'I don't even know what month it is.'

Paul was still giving me a strange look, and I huffed in frustration. 'Can you stop staring at me and explain whatever you know that I don't?'

Another look, but this time one more of amusement. I growled slightly, and he grinned.

'I like hearing you growl.' I couldn't help but smile at his comment, despite my annoyance that he was avoiding the question. I growled again, unable to repress my frustration, and Paul smiled again. This time I slapped him lightly on the chest.

'Answer the question.'

He smirked, and I gave him a suspicious look. 'It's July.'

'Paul!' I complained, frowning angrily, all the more incensed by the reappearance of the alpha order, sucking away what little frustration I'd managed to build. He laughed, and I groaned, rolling my eyes.

'Urgh, I give up.' I moaned, 'I can't even get properly annoyed because of the order.' More laughter, his eyes sparkling.

'If you growl again, I might tell you.' Paul teased, and I glared, growling before I even realised that I was conceding to his demands. In my irritance, I growled once more, frustrated I'd given him what he wanted.

But all my annoyance flew from my mind in the shock that followed his next few words.

'You were asleep for two days.'

'What?!' I exclaimed in disbelief, staring at him in shock. Surely not. I would have known, would've been able to tell, if I'd slept for that long. But Paul's serious gaze was unwavering, and ever so slowly the truth began to sink in. My mouth dropped open, all words eluding me.

Two days. The alpha order had forced me unconscious for _two days_. And I hadn't even noticed.

I shouldn't have been surprised. I'd been comatose before, and knocked out plenty of times in hospital; waking up and not knowing how much time had passed really shouldn't bother me so much. But back then, I'd at least had a feeling, a notion, that my sleep had been abnormal. I had known that a questionable amount of time had passed.

But not this time. I'd been blind-sided. I had felt rested, sure, but never would I have guessed I had slept away two whole days. It looked like I couldn't even sleep without supernatural events messing with me.

More unexplained occurrences. I guess I'd have to add them to my list.

The shock wore off quickly, acceptance not an issue; the novelty of strange events had long since worn off, as had my need to know _why_ everything happened. Blinking in quick succession, snapping myself back to normal, I met Paul's careful look with a reassuring one.

'So what did I miss?' I asked, a smile toying with my lips. He laughed, shaking his head.

'Nothing interesting. Though not being able to feel you properly, because of the order...' He trailed off with a shudder, which I mirrored.

'I don't like it.' I mumbled, pressing my face into the crook of his neck. The bond was fading away again, the spark that had been reignited with our kisses dwindling. Apparently on the same line of thought that I was, Paul's hand slid through my hair, pulling me away from his neck and pulling my mouth to his. With a sly smile, I stopped him, placing a finger over his lips when I was just inches away.

He growled, and my smirk grew.

'Only if you let me win.' I said, and he growled again; a low, rumbling growl that I felt vibrate though his chest.

'You're impossible.' He said, and I grinned at his words.

'So you're _not_ going to let me win?' I asked, eliciting a third growl.

'I didn't say that.' My grin widened.

'If it's incentive you need…' I whispered, my finger tracing over the shape of his lips. In the space of a heartbeat, Paul rolled to the side, pulling me with him, flipping us over so that I was now lying on top of him. My hands were gripping his shoulders, my legs still straddling him, both of his hands cupping my face.

'Never.' He whispered, before pulling me downwards, a gasp escaping me as his lips met mine once more. The heat was immediate, as was the wave of bliss that flowed through me. The exhilaration a single kiss could bring out was incredible; surely, there was nothing better than this.

My body moulded against his effortlessly, and as we broke apart, I didn't even try to hide to stupid smile that graced my lips. Burying my face in his collarbone, I breathed him in, sighing with contentment. Paul's hand was still on my cheek, his finger drawing slow circles, my nerves on fire. The hot trails his touch left as his fingers trailed down my neck to my collarbone sent shivers through me, my breaths shaky.

But what sent my heart stuttering to stop was feeling his fingers, ever so slowly, picking up the wolf charm resting at my throat.


	57. Indecision

**Chapter 57 - Indecision**

But what sent my heart stuttering to stop was feeling his fingers, ever so slowly, picking up the wolf charm resting at my throat.

My breaths caught in my throat, my body stiffening. I flinched as I felt the fear stab into me, only to be promptly slammed back down by the order. But the fear did not, _would not_, go down without a fight. It was pushing me, digging its deadly claws into my heart, and while the order could rob it of its intensity, it could not dig out the iron roots it had within me.

A constant, never-ending battle.

And through it all, Paul was still looping his fingers beneath the chain around my neck, his hand resting on my collarbone as he examined the wooden wolfs head. He rolled over slightly, so that we were now facing each other on our sides, his head raised as he looked down at me and the object of his attention. His gaze was searing, his expression a multitude of emotions, and I wondered what expression I bore.

I couldn't describe what I was feeling. Constantly being pulled back and forth, back and forth, everything and nothing, empty and emotive. It was enough to drive anyone crazy. My body had frozen, and so had my mind; I was at an utter loss of how to respond to this situation.

And the confusion only grew as Paul began to speak.

'This is what Claire asked you about.' He said quietly, turning the wolf over and over in his fingers. I frowned – or I would have, if I'd been able to – I should have known they'd be listening. Paul was deep in thought as he examined the splintered wood, and my heart constricted uncomfortably; I knew I wasn't going to get out of this discussion easily.

'You said it snapped?' His eyes flickered to mine, his voice soft, the hand that wasn't holding the wolf ever so slowly slipping around me, as if he thought I would make a run for it. I couldn't blame him; part of me was screaming to get away, to not go down memory lane and relive horrors I had seen and felt far too many times. But I couldn't move; couldn't run away from this.

However, in some strange twist of fate, the paralysis that had taken over both my mind and body didn't prevent me from speaking. It took me a few seconds to find the use of my voice, my words whispered and strangled sounding.

'Yes.' Paul was silent, his gaze not leaving mine; he seemed be debating whether or not to continue.

'How?' He eventually asked quietly, his hand abandoning the charm and trailing up my neck to cradle my cheek once more. I opened my mouth, and then closed it again, at a loss.

What was I supposed to say? Do I tell him? Should I tell him? This conversation could head in only one direction if I did, and once again my heart clenched painfully at the thought.

What if didn't tell him? What would I say instead? Would he believe me? Would he let the conversation drop? Or would I be left with no choice but to speak the truth, if I was even able?

I could stay silent. Order or not, diluted connection or not, he _had_ to know the cacophony of emotions and thoughts and confusion that was overwhelming me. But even if I did, somehow, manage to steer clear of the topic I feared above all others, then what?

Sooner or later, we would come back to it. I would have to say something. Both for me, and for him, and for the pack, this silence, this avoidance, couldn't continue. But at the same time, I couldn't stand to do it. Couldn't stand to put into words the horrors I had been subjected to. They didn't want to hear it. While I was sure they were probably driving themselves crazy with what they _thought_ had happened, that was better than knowing.

Because there was a chance, however small and unlikely, that everything the thought was wrong. They could hope, perhaps in vain, perhaps unreasonably, that I hadn't suffered as much as they thought.

And more than anything, I wanted to keep that hope alive.

I couldn't decide. Couldn't make up my mind, couldn't decide what to say. Indecision ruled me, my whole being torn.

And I was still being pulled in a million different directions when, of its own accord, my mouth formed a response.

'I…' I didn't know what I was saying. I hadn't decided. But the words were coming, and I couldn't stop it. 'I broke it.' Those three words were so quiet, I barely heard them. But Paul did. I could tell, but his huff of surprise, by the arm around abdomen pulling me closer, by his stiffening body, that he had heard me.

And I could tell, by the simultaneously sympathetic, concerned, and dangerous look in his eyes, that my eyes were showing just how much I dreaded and feared the words that were about to leave his lips.

He had to ask. He couldn't not ask. The question was written all over his face, burning from his eyes. There was no escaping it.

'_Why?_' I flinched, an almost inaudible pained whine escaping me.

Why? There were so many reasons. So many reasons. Each one a stab in the stomach, a punch to the gut.

Because it was magic. Because for some miraculous reason, it could heal me. Because the necklace simultaneously saved me and condemned me. Because it made it possible for the vampire to torture me. Because it was all too much. Because death, death was preferable. Because there was no other way out. Because he was going to kill you, kill you all. Because it was the only way to end the fight. Because I finally had a choice in something. Because I _finally_ had a chance to stop the vampire from getting everything he wanted.

Because I wanted it to end.

Too many, so many, reasons. Too painful to even think, even consider, let alone to voice, to speak out loud.

Paul was staring at me, his expression telling me that he knew, as well as I did, just how out of bounds this topic was. He could tell, he could feel my pain. And the fear. Fighting, fighting _hard_, to control me.

Fear that I would have to go through it again.

I had no words. No words. There was nothing I could say, no way to respond. Or so I thought.

Once again, the words were coming, of their own volition, without my consent or my control. I didn't know what they were, didn't know whether to be glad for something to break the growing silence, worried about where they were coming from, amazed I'd thought of something, or scared what I was unknowingly going to reveal. I was all and none, and still frozen, still stunned, as my mouth slowly shaped the words, once again only just audible.

'I had no choice.' I whispered, my eyes not leaving Paul's, despite the roiling storm of activity within me. Whatever was the cause of my words faltered, my heart stuttering, before for the third time, I spoke without thinking.

'There was no other way.' As quickly as it had come, whatever force that was motivating me to speak vanished, leaving me reeling as I processed my own words.

They were the truth. They were cryptic and vague, just like everything that had happened; too many strange supernatural events, and no explanations to be found. And they simultaneously said both everything and nothing.

I couldn't blame Paul for the stunned look of bewilderment on his face. He tried to hide it, but even if he'd managed to smooth the crease between his eyebrows, his eyes would have given him away.

And I thought _I _was confused by this whole thing. At least I knew the background. The painful, horrifying, crippling background. But Paul, Paul knew nothing. And I was still yet to decide whether or not I was going to tell him or not.

I would tell him. Eventually. Someday, somehow, something would happen, something would trigger it. The story would coming flowing through my lips in a torrent, my heart pouring out the terrible burden it could not bear, could not stand. I would feel as if I was being ripped in two, but at the end, it would finally be over.

It had to happen. But not now. Now, my heart was burning at the mere thought of expelling its secrets.

Now, Paul was staring at me with wide eyes and a parted mouth, clearly at a loss to respond. He looked at me, and I looked at him, and the strange but not uncomfortable silence continued, until he turned his head to the side, suddenly staring at me with a deeply thoughtful expression.

'Do you remember what you said to me last night?' My head jerked back slightly, as I blinked, eyes wide.

'I… What?' I replied, my eyebrows crinkling in confusion. What was he talking about? I could think of nothing, nothing I had said that could merit the sadness behind his eyes, that could be the cause of his soft and subdued tone as he responded

'You don't remember.' No, I didn't. I had no idea what he was talking about. And in a wave, the horror suddenly hit me, as I stared at him in stunned fear.

'What did I say?' I whispered, panic threatening to surface, but being blocked by the order.

'You don't need to know.' Oh god, it was bad. I had something very, very bad, something he didn't want to tell me.

'Paul, _what did I say_?' I whispered again, what little panic that had yet to be forced down lacing my words with a frantic edge. The hand on my cheek drew a soft circle on my skin as he replied in a voice full of resignation.

'Nothing I didn't already know.'

Once again I blinked at him, my mouth parting in surprise. Now I was _really_ confused. I couldn't think of anything that I'd already told him that could be the cause of the concerned, pitying, and pained expression he wore.

'I…' I started, frowning, before huffing in frustration. 'I give up.' I sighed. Paul almost smiled, as he looked at me with interest, a silent question in his eyes.

'I have no clue what I said. I can't think of anything.' I murmured, slightly annoyed. I continued, 'I give up on figuring any of this out.' Burying my face in his chest, I shivered at the feeling of his hand running through my hair.

'You know what I need? I need an instruction manual for my life.' Paul laughed at my comment, though I sensed his agreement. 'I need a detailed explanation for every strange thing that's happened, so I can actually understand what the hell is going on.'

'And where do you plan on finding this?' Paul whispered in my ear, and I made sad noise in response.

'Nowhere. I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist.' I mumbled sadly.

'You shouldn't be so pessimistic.' I turned my head up to look at Paul.

'And why not?' I asked, slightly incredulous. There was no way I would actually find something even remotely close to what I described. Things like that just didn't exist. Surely Paul didn't think otherwise?

'It doesn't suit you.' He said with a smile, which I returned. Paul was right; pessimism didn't suit me. Optimism, however; that had always been my forte. I just couldn't see how optimism was going to get me what I wanted. But Paul's smile was growing slyly, his eyes sparkling, and I levelled him a suspicious look; he knew something. The question was – what?

'Besides, you're forgetting that Sam thinks he might have something in the tribe's old books.' My eyebrows rose, as I gasped. I _had_ forgotten. What was next? What other important information had I forgotten?

It was too hard to keep track of everything when nothing made sense.

Still, the books could hold all the answers to my problems. The likelihood of something actually being in there was low, but it was a chance, and that was always, always better than nothing. I had a sinking feeling that the mystery of the necklace was never going to be resolved, but surely there would be at least _something_ on imprinting. And not just normal imprinting, as it was blindingly obvious that ours wasn't normal. But surely there had been other cases like ours?

One could only hope.

Of course, hoping was a lot easier when you didn't have an alpha order destroying every sliver of emotion.

I felt Paul pull me closer, and I knew he sensed my annoyance, however weak and fleeting it was. Frowning, I muttered my frustrations.

'I can't wait until this order wears off.' I grumbled quietly. 'I can't feel _anything_. I can't get annoyed, or scared, or angry, or even excited. It's driving me insane.'

'You could probably start interrogating me about vampires and I wouldn't even blink.' I said it without thinking, without really considering what it could mean. I was mortified, my eyes frozen wide with alarm.

Surely they wouldn't. Paul wouldn't. They would never…

Paul's hot hand beneath my chin snapped me out of my panic. His eyes were smouldering as he looked down at me. 'I couldn't do that.'

I felt stupid for thinking it. Even with the order, the panic had managed to twist my brain. The fear had stolen my logic, planting seeds of doubt that shouldn't have existed.

Because I knew, with every fibre of my being, that Paul would never do _anything_ to hurt me.


	58. Sneaky

**Chapter 58 - Sneaky**

'Paul's staring at you.'

'Hmm?' I mumbled, looking up and feeling as if I was waking from a daze. Emily's voice had cut through the fog that had ensnared me, jerking me from my wild and rampant thoughts.

'Paul's staring at you.' She repeated, turning to face me; I was leant against the kitchen bench, staring at the pile of paper and books in front of me. This time, I actually heard what she said, and sure enough, a quick covert glance told me Paul was indeed staring.

'So? He always stares at me.' I replied, unable to hide a small smile. It probably should have creeped me out, but I _liked_ knowing Paul's eyes followed me wherever I went. And I was pretty sure I stared at him as well; more than once I'd caught myself sinking into a daze as I watched him.

'Not like this.' She said, with a shake of her head. I gave her a look, prompting an explanation.

'Usually he just watches you, with that look the imprinted wolves all have.' She said with a smile, which I returned. It was impossible not to notice the way Quil looked at Claire, the way all the wolves looked at their imprints. Sometimes I caught Paul staring at me with the look of pure adoration; and each and every time, I couldn't help but grin back stupidly, my stomach somersaulting with glee.

I nodded, gesturing for her to continue. 'But today… Today he looks at you like you're a puzzle he's desperate to solve.' My smile fell, and I was unable to stop my eyes from flickering in Paul's direction, despite knowing what I would find. His gaze was searing, analysing; I don't even know if he realised how intense his eyes were. He stared at me as if I held all the secrets of the universe, a serious expression on his handsome face. A pang of sadness struck me; I hated to be the cause of his sober demeanour.

'He's thinking about what I said to him this morning.' I said quietly, letting myself slide down to the floor, my back pressed against a cupboard door. 'Or rather, what I _didn't _say.' I murmured, earning a sympathetic look from Emily.

'They understand, you know.' She said softly. 'They don't want to force you.' I gave her a small smile.

'I know that. They've treated me like spun glass ever since… since…' I petered off, staring at the floor intently.

'I would say you're exaggerating, but I know you're not.' Emily said with a slight smile, conveniently ignoring my silence. 'I don't think I've ever seen them so worried and protective.' She paused for a moment, tapping her spoon against her chin thoughtfully.

'You know, for a group of men, they are strangely mothering.' I snorted, unable to hold back my laugh. Emily laughed with me, smiling, evidently pleased to have cheered me up.

'I don't know if I ever would have thought it that way, but now that you've mentioned it…' This time when I trailed it off, it was with a grin, as I failed to hold back a soft laugh. Standing up with a lurch and a smile, I turned to face the pile of papers once more.

'Maybe it'll be in here?' I mused with a grin, and Emily gave me a disbelieving look.

'Overprotective wolves?' She asked.

'No, that'll definitely be in there.'

Emily laughed. 'What were you thinking of then?'

'I was more referring to the two wolves I found in my kitchen this morning.' Another laugh from Emily.

'That doesn't come under overprotective?'

'Nah, it gets a whole new category.' We both grinned, Emily turning back to her baking. After a pause, where I tapped my fingers thoughtfully on the books in front of me, I spoke again.

'To be honest, it doesn't really bother me.' Emily turned at my soft voice. 'Not the way it would have before.' I tilted my head slightly as another thought popped into my head.

'Though I draw the line at waking up to anyone but Paul in my bedroom.'

Emily looked stunned for a moment, before she laughed loudly, a large grin on her face. She was still stifling her laughter when she responded.

'I can't even imagine how disturbing that would be.' She said, her eyes slightly glazed as she visualised it. Making a small noise of agreement, I retorted.

'I certainly wouldn't sleep soundly, that's for sure.' My smile fell as I continued. 'Not that I do anyway.' Shaking my head to clear it, I dismissed that depressing line of thought.

'I suppose it's about time I actually went through these.' I said, turning my full attention to the stack of books in front of me once more. Gingerly picking up the thin volume on the top of the pile, I gave it slight look of disbelief. It looked ancient, the binding frayed and the papers a sickly yellow. Opening it up with care, I got a face full of dust, and I spluttered.

Coughing, I frowned, peering at the page so intensely my nose was almost pressed against it. Squinting, I cocked my head to the side in confusion, before letting my head fall back with sigh of frustration.

'Well, I know why no one's read this one.' I said with a hint of annoyance. 'It's not even in English!' Emily laughed softly, as I continued staring at it with bewilderment.

'I don't even know what language this is!' I exclaimed with a groan, after staring at the page for a few more seconds.

This was going to be a lot harder than I'd thought.

* * *

I'd though winning the upside down hanging competition would be easy. I had grinned when Claire asked it of me, confident in my abilities.

I was now seriously reconsidering.

The blood rush to my head had me disoriented, my face flushed from the surge. After spending almost five minutes with my head hanging off the couch, multi-coloured splotches began popping up and obscuring my vision. My stomach was beginning to churn, and yet Claire seemed happy as a clam, giggling with delight and clearly unfazed by the whole adventure.

As the world began to tilt strangely, I knew I was done. Groaning, I let myself slowly slither to the floor, my eyes shut tight as I sighed in relief.

'Land!' I gasped with relief, ignoring the snicker from the kitchen. I rested my head on the soft rug as the world ever so slowly stopped spinning, luxuriating in having solid ground beneath me.

Somehow, despite my crippling disorientation, Claire was completely fine. She was still laughing, as she happily righted herself, clambering onto my stomach and peering down at me with interest.

'Did I win?' She questioned, her eyes alight with excitement, her voice hopeful. I grinned in response. 'Of course, Claire-bear.'

She squealed in delight, and I couldn't help but giggle at her ecstatic response. 'Yay! Can we do it again, Chwoe?' My smile quickly morphed into alarm.

'Maybe later,' I said with a tight smile, relieved as she frowned for just a moment, before perking up again almost instantly. Sitting up with a groan, and wincing as my head spun slightly once more, I met her wide eyes with my own amused ones.

'So what shall we do now?' I asked her. She placed a finger on her chin for a moment, thinking seriously. With her little face scrunched up, I silently awwwed; it was so cute. After barely a second, Claire grinned widely and bounced excitedly.

'We can play twenny cwestions!' Even if I'd wanted to deny her, I wouldn't have been able to resist her puppy-dog eyes. Unable to do anything but grin and nod my consent, I turned slightly so that my back was braced against the couch.

'Ok, you go first.' I said, prompting Claire to once again turn serious as she thought.

'Favourite cowour?'

'Purple.' She gasped.

'Purple? But pink is soooo much pwettier!' I laughed, shaking my head.

'It is not!'

'It is to!'

And so the great colour debate began.

* * *

We were only up to question 5. We had spent at least five minutes debating colours, and more than ten minutes arguing Christmas vs. Easter. I had begun to strongly doubt whether or not we would ever reach number twenty. But I was jerked from my musings by Claire's next question.

'Oh, I've got one! You know the evil bunny fwom the story you told me?' I nodded, wondering where this was headed. 'Where did he come from?' I tried to hide my confusion, but couldn't stop myself from giving her a strange look. I couldn't figure how she had even come up with the question, let alone why she was interested.

Nagging in the back of my mind was a small suspicion that maybe Claire hadn't come up with this all by herself. I wouldn't past the wolves to find a sneaky way to get their answers. I shook my head to clear it, mulling over an answer; I was totally over thinking this.

'I don't really know Claire.' She looked confused as she considered my response.

'But why did he go after pwincess Chwoe?' I gave her another distrustful look, but quickly hid it. My suspicions from earlier didn't seem quite so far-fetched anymore.

What were the odds of Claire independently asking _two_ questions that if I didn't know better, were aimed at learning more about my vampire torturer? I gave Quil a covert glance; he was laughing his head off in the corner, seemingly oblivious. Still, that didn't mean anything. I decided to bide my time.

'That's a good question Claire. I suppose it was because he was evil. He wanted to cause trouble and be mean.' She looked sad, and still a bit bewildered.

'But why not twick pwincess Claire as well?' I still wasn't completely sold on my theory that Quil was interrogating me through Claire, but I couldn't seem to get it out of my head.

'I suppose because Pwincess Claire was too smart.' Claire beamed, but looked a tad confused.

'But you said pwincess Chwoe chased the bunny. Why would she do that?' I gaped at her with my jaw slack, my lips parted. Once more my eyes darted to Quil, and I levelled him a deadly look, which he didn't see, too preoccupied with whatever he was laughing at.

I was no longer uncertain. There was no way in hell Claire had come up with all of that on her own, no way she remembered the story in that much detail without help. Somehow, Quil had tricked Claire into interrogating me about Demetri. Suppressing a hiss of annoyance, I hid a deadly smile as I answered Claire.

'I'm not sure. Maybe it was because pwince Quil was being mean and irritating.' I said sweetly, the laughter from the corner coming to an abrupt halt, the room almost silent.

'But why would he do that?' Claire looked crestfallen, and I couldn't bear to see such a sad look on her face.

'Awww, Claire. I was only teasing. You know Quil would never do that.' She grinned, all her sadness forgotten in an instant. Conveniently, Emily had wandered over for some time with her niece, and I handed a happily smiling Claire over to her, wondering whether or not her appearance had anything to do with my revelation. With a mental shrug, deciding it wasn't really important, I turned my attention to more important matters.

Clambering to my feet, I turned to face Quil, shooting him a fierce glare as I walked over to his position in a chair by the table, snagging a thick novel off a shelf I passed as I made my way over. By the wary and serious looks on both his and Embry's faces, I knew for certain that my deduction was correct.

With a deadly expression on my face, I paused near Quil, my words icy.

'You sneaky bastard!' I hissed, whacking him over the head with the book as hard as I could. Still glaring, I seated myself on the table facing him, my gaze not leaving his except to shoot Embry a quick look for laughing at my words.

'You're lucky I don't have anything better to hit you with right now.' I said, my words venomous. With the alpha order in place, I had to fight to retain my sliver of anger, and I growled my frustration.

'And you're lucky I've been ordered to stay calm, too.' Quil was looking at me warily and slightly apologetically, but he grinned slightly, before retorting.

'That was the idea.'

I whacked him over the head again, my glare intensifying.

'I can't believe you used my own idea against me.' I protested angrily, keeping my words at normal volume to avoid alarming Claire. Neither Quil nor Embry could hide a smile at my comment, and I growled slightly at the confirmation that they had indeed gotten the idea from me.

'Though it's not like you got anything out of me anyway.' I muttered darkly, crossing my arms in annoyance. Quil gave me an appraising look, and I gave him a deadly glare.

'Are you really annoyed?' Embry asked, and my head snapped to the side, my eyes flashing as I met his analysing expression.

'Yes.' I growled, turning back to Quil, who was still staring at me thoughtfully.

'Really?' This time, it was Quil who spoke, and I glared daggers at him for a moment, before softening my gaze, and sighing.

'No.' I mumbled, turning my eyes away and staring at the floor. Damn werewolves; I couldn't hide anything from them.

I heard a slight scraping sound, and felt a shadow loom over me. My eyes jerking back up, I flinched slightly to find Quil standing right in front of me, my head level with his chest. Craning my neck back slightly, I gave him an irritated look.

'Yes, intimidate the small, human girl, that'll make her feel much better.' I drawled, my voice dripping sarcasm. Embry was also standing, and I wondered what exactly they were doing.

'Why aren't you annoyed?' Quil asked, his stern expression clearly stating he wouldn't take no for an answer.

'You're just _full_ of questions today.' I retorted, defensive. They both gave me firm look. Sighing, I responded quietly.

'Look, I didn't say anything I didn't want to. And I can't blame you for trying to get it out of me, because I know I'd go insane trying to figure it out.' Debating whether or not to continue, I drummed my fingers against the table nervously. Deciding I might as well just put it out there, I kept going, my voice even quieter than before.

'You know, I don't mean to keep secrets. And I know you want to know, though heaven knows why,' I stopped for a breath. 'I just… can't.'

They were both looking at me with unreadable expressions, and from my seated position, they were both easily a foot taller than me. Feeling small and uneasy, as the silence stretched on, I fidgeted, just about to open my mouth when I found myself suddenly yanked off the table.

'Quil, what the hell do you-!' My shouted exclamation was cut short as I found myself colliding with something hard and warm, my face smushed against Quil's chest as he pulled me into a crushing hug.

'Don't ever disappear like that again.' He whispered, and I stopped struggling against his iron hold. I bit my lip to hold in the many sarcastic retorts that came to mind, simply enjoying the closeness. He released me a moment later, and I just had time to suck in a huge breath of air before I was suddenly engulfed by another warm body; this time it was Embry that was squashing the air from my lungs. Stunned by the sudden embrace, I didn't regain control of my voice box until he released me, both Quil and Embry staring at me again, gauging my response.

'Emily was right; for grown men, you really are bizarrely mothering.' The pair didn't seem to know whether to be insulted or relieved, though they did smile as I slid back onto the table, my legs dangling.

'It really doesn't bother you?' Embry asked, him and Quil collapsing back into their chairs.

'The fact that I found you in my kitchen? No. That you somehow conned Claire into interrogating me? A little. I'll just hold a grudge and get you back for it later, when I can enjoy it more.' I said happily, enjoying the suspicious and somewhat worried look Quil was now giving me.

'You know, I promised myself I'd strangle you when we got you back.' Quil said, folding his arms across his chest.

'Wouldn't that be a bit counter-productive?' I asked, raising an eyebrow. Quil shot me a dirty look, and I grinned. My gaze flicked to Embry, and noticing that he was giving me a strange look, and I gave his knee a soft kick.

'Embry?' His gaze didn't waver. Picking up the book from beside me, I waved it at him. 'Do I need to hit you with this, or are you going to stop staring?' He almost smiled, but his sombre expression didn't change. Taken aback at his strange behaviour, I turned to Quil for help, but he just shrugged.

Sliding off the table, Embry still didn't take his eyes off me, even when I waved a hand in front of his face. Huffing, I sat on his knees, finally getting a response when I flicked him gently on the forehead.

'Embry? What's wrong?' He shook his head, finally averting his eyes. I raised both eyebrows. 'Oh, no you don't. You didn't let me get out if it, so I'm not letting you. Talk. Now.' He looked hesitant, and I sighed.

'I'll go get another knife if I have to.' I threatened, and he growled.

'I'm sorry.' His voice was quiet, and full of guilt.

'For what?' I asked, exasperated.

'For letting him get you.' My head jerked back slightly, my mouth slack.

'_That's_ what this is about?' My voice was mildly incredulous, and Embry's eyes met mine again; he evidently wasn't expecting my surprise. Huffing once again, I hit him over the head with the book, hard.

'You're an idiot.' His expression was still one of surprise, now mixed with confusion. I hit him again.

'Did you not hear _anything_ I said to my brother last week?' He looked sheepish, and a quick glance at Quil told me he wore the same expression. Groaning, I hit him a third time. 'Unbelievable. You know that what I said applies to all of you, right?'

Another groan on my part; overprotective morons.

'Look, it's nobody's fault. And you all need to stop feeling guilty about it when there was nothing you could do.' I said softly, looking at them both seriously. Embry opened his mouth to argue, and I gave him a stern glare. 'Don't even _think_ about arguing.'

Hitting Embry one last time, though I put hardly any effort into it, I stood up, whacking Quil lightly as well to get rid of the stunned expression on his face. Muttering to myself, and unable to stop myself from grinning at the smiles Embry and Quil now wore, I headed into the kitchen.

'Stupid protective werewolves.'


	59. Revelations

**Chapter 59 - Revelations**

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, as did the night that followed. I had no nightmares, and slept soundly, thanks to the ever present alpha order. I woke in a good mood, bickering with my brother over breakfast, as per usual. And I laughed for almost ten minutes, my stomach cramping up in a stitch, when I discovered that several of the kitchen's sharpest knives were mysteriously missing.

After finally calming myself down, Matt accompanied me to the hospital, where I met with one of the nurses. She quizzed me about the last few days, to ensure my new found freedom hadn't provoked too many mental break downs. After a lengthy interrogation, she was apparently satisfied that I was coping with the outside world, and with a reminder to return in a few days, I was dismissed. Though, not before she tried for the millionth time to get me to explain my reason for being comatose in the first place.

Still, despite the uncomfortable questioning – to which I responded with only silence – I was happy as I strolled down the hallway. I couldn't help but smile at the prospect of seeing Paul in just a few short hours; even though he'd slept with me almost all of last night.

Sometimes I wondered if it was normal that I could need one person so badly. Normal that when I saw him, I grinned the widest grin possible, the sight of him enough to send my heart into a frenzy.

Normal. As if any of this would ever be normal. I didn't think normal even existed anymore, not for me. The thought probably should have made me shudder. But to be honest, I didn't really care if it was normal or not; as long as Paul was there with me.

* * *

_Quil's POV_

'I'm pretty sure I don't need to escort _just_ to walk down the hallway.' Chloe's voice rang out across the room, her tone matching the look of disbelief she was currently levelling at Paul. Embry snickered, earning himself a glare. With one last glance at Paul, she slipped from his grasp, humming to herself a she disappeared down the corridor.

At least five pairs of eyes followed her across the room. Even here, in Sam and Emily's house, it didn't set well with the pack to let her out of our sight. I almost wished that she was bothered by the constant supervision; maybe then we wouldn't all be so worried about what had happened. It helped that she'd spent most of the last two days with the pack; it made us all more comfortable to watch her.

Except, of course, when she had the look. The far away, shell shocked, _dead_ expression she wore when she was thinking about that week. That set us all on edge; it was a constant reminder of what we'd failed to do.

Shaking my head to avoid spiralling into guilt ridden thoughts, my mind turned to Claire. I hadn't seen her since yesterday, and already I missed her. Still, at least I wasn't like Paul; his imprint had only been gone for about 10 seconds, and already he looked despondent.

And it was because I was looking at Paul that very instant, that I saw his expression suddenly morph, fluctuating through about a dozen emotions before settling on a strange mix of anger and concern. He snarled, eyes flashing, disappearing after Chloe, all of our eyes trained on his unexplained outburst. A sinking feeling settled in my stomach; there could be only one reason behind his actions.

Still, despite my nagging worry for Chloe, I wasn't nearly prepared for Paul to emerge from the hallway with her nearly unconscious in his arms.

There was a rumble through the room, all of the wolves bristling, surprise quickly making way for the same combination of worry and rage that was written all over Paul.

And the tension in the room only grew as Chloe's unintelligible mutterings suddenly became audible.

'So close. So close. I have to…' Paul was striding across the room, so immersed in her that he didn't see our expressions of shock and horror.

'Fire. I need…fire.' Her eyes were wide and unseeing, her breaths fast.

'What happened?' Embry whispered, his eyes – like all of ours – locked on the pair. Paul looked at him, his eyes burning.

'The alpha order wore off when she saw the bonfire painting in the hallway.' Paul's pain laced his words, all of us looking at the faintly struggling and muttering Chloe with new eyes. We had all seen, through Paul's memories, what could happen when something triggered her memories.

'Have to… Have to get away.' No longer limp, she was beginning to fight, squirming; clearly, she had no idea where she was.

'She's reliving that night.' Sam said, looking somewhat tortured; I knew I probably wore the same expression. It was painful for us to remember and we weren't even hurt by the leech; I couldn't imagine how terrible it must have been for her. So terrible that the mere memory of the night almost crippled her.

Paul's face tightened at Sam's words, confirming what we all knew to be true. He turned towards the doorway once again, continuing across the room.

'It hurts… I can't. It's…too much.' She was whimpering now, and Paul had almost reached the front door when I finally spoke, breaking the stunned horror that had settled over us all at her words.

'Where are you going?' The only thing worse than seeing Chloe like this would be not seeing her; not being able to assure myself of her safety. Paul paused in the door frame, not turning.

'She doesn't like being inside.' He said softly, disappearing through the doorway. I heard him settle himself on the porch stairs outside, Chloe's murmuring still audible.

'Can't be worse. Nothing can be worse.' I growled at her words, and at the panicked shout she gave soon after.

'Please. Don't… don't.' I didn't want to imagine what he had done to cause her to sound so broken, so desperate. She had been gone for _days_ before Paul found her; that was more than enough time for any number of tortures.

'Kill me… Please…don't.' Sam was seething, his anger flooding through the pack. I wished I was anywhere else, anywhere except listening to this undeniable proof of how much we had failed her. How we had let a pack member, an _imprint_, be at the mercy of our one eternal enemy. I was torn, wanting to leave, to not remember, but unable to move. Frozen, staked to my chair, by the pained whispers and whimpers of an imprint.

'No more. No more.' Paul's pain was palpable. I wondered at the fact that he was still alive; that he hadn't yet been overwhelmed by the incomparable agony that was one's imprint in pain. And there was nothing he could do.

'Please. Don't… Can't… die.'

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

I came out of my memory feeling like I'd been doused in ice water. I was gasping, heaving, trembling, unable to rid myself of the cold that I would only ever associate with _him_. Paul was warm, so warm, the only part of the world that seemed real. I couldn't seem to snap out of it; not entirely. Demetri followed me around in my thoughts; I could feel the sand beneath me.

And above all, I could not shake myself of the wild, uncontrollable fear and desperation.

Time passed, crawling by at a snail's pace, and still I could not stop the tremors, could not calm my racing heart. Paul's arms around me were all I could focus on, the one thing I knew _had_ to be real. His fingers were drawing slow circles, mesmerizing swirls, and I found myself enraptured by the meaningless patterns.

Ever so slowly, bit by bit, I began to calm. My breaths, no longer heaving pants, no longer desperate gasps, were shaky, but even. My eyes, which had been frozen wide, and locked onto Paul's bare chest, finally flickered around me, taking in the wooden floorboards, green trees, cloud filled sky.

There was no sand. No fire. No dark night. And no Demetri.

Only Paul. Paul, who I could feel again, who was again a part of me.

The alpha order was finally gone.

* * *

Even after the hours I had spent curled around Paul, trying to stop the trembles that shivered through me, I was still tense; the memory still fresh in my mind. I had a terrible sinking feeling that it was going to be hours before I stopped flinching and trembling; even though it had already been hours since the attack.

The sudden influx of emotions after days of emptiness had left me weakened. Thoughts that I could usually repress with ease were now slithering through my mind, nurturing worry and doubt, and leaving me shaken. The trembling that had been constant after my panic had faded just moments ago, and I had yet to stop myself from looking over my shoulder at regular intervals.

I knew I was going to be jumpy for the rest of the day.

I flinched when I felt Paul's hand on my shoulder, unable hold back a gasp at his light but firm touch. Despite having known he was behind me, my hyper-aware senses went into a momentary panic at the unexpected contact. Exhaling in a slow breath as Paul turned me gently to face him, my eyes widen slightly at his deadly and intense expression of determination. His eyes burned with restrained fury, searing as they met mine.

'You know he'll never touch you again.' It should have been a question, but Paul said it as a statement. Towering over me, with only a foot between us, his hand still on my shoulder, his voice was low and dangerous, leaving no room for argument.

My whole body had frozen, my brain flat lining. My mouth parted, but no words came.

What was I supposed to say?

I couldn't agree. No matter what anyone said, I would never agree. Deep down, I was certain that Demetri would be back. The thought filled me with fear, and by Paul's slight growl, I knew he could tell I didn't believe him.

'We won't let him get anywhere near you.' Paul almost growled, answering my unspoken disagreement. The very idea seemed to pain him, and I felt my heart clench, my mouth moving automatically.

'Paul-' My soft voice was cut off as he stepped forwards, pressing against me. His other hand slid around my neck, his burning eyes transforming into an inferno, as he spoke slowly and furiously.

'I will not let him kill you.'

My mouth dropped, my eyes wide with alarm as I staggered back. The shock was overwhelming, my body stunned while my mind raced at a million miles an hour. My heart was racing as I stared at him, unable to believe what he had just said.

He didn't know. Oh god, he didn't know! Paul's fury was fading as he stared at me, concern and alarm taking its place as he took a step forward. I staggered back another few steps, making him pause; I could see his eyes and brain working furiously to discover why I was staring at him with a mortified expression.

He didn't know. I couldn't get the thought out of my mind. It was on repeat, and I couldn't seem to comprehend it. The panic was growing, my disbelief fuelling my words as I whispered.

'Paul, if he had wanted to kill me, I would have been dead months ago!' My voice grew louder as I spoke, ending in an exclamation. Paul looked like part of him had died, staring at me with a broken and stunned expression.

The creak of Sam and Emily's front door caused my eyes to flicker away from Paul's burning gaze, and I didn't react as I saw several of the wolves descending the stairs, heading towards us. I didn't have room for any surprise, any concern.

I was consumed by the fact that Paul didn't know the most important fact about Demetri; _he didn't want to kill me_.

'He had me prisoner for _days_! _Days_ before you found me! And you never wondered why I was alive?' My voice was forceful and incredulous, my gaze piercing. The wolves had reached Paul, and were spread out around me, staring at me in horror.

'He could have killed me _in a second_ if he'd wanted to!' I was half yelling; my voice frantic, my eyes wild.

'And even if he'd wanted to drag it out, surely I should have been dead before you reached me!' My fists were clenched, my gaze fixed on Paul. Stunned horror filled the faces of the wolves as they stared, seemingly unable to comprehend the words coming out of mouth.

'HE DIDN'T WANT TO KILL ME!' The panic was dominating, fear driving me to yell, hot tears beginning to form.

'I WISH HE HAD! IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER, FAR BETTER!'

'BECAUSE WHAT HE HAD PLANNED WAS WORSE! WORSE THAN DEATH! AND I'D RATHER DIE THAN GO THROUGH ANY OF THAT AGAIN!' I almost screamed the last line, tears falling now, blurring my vision as all reason fled from my mind. The pain, the fear, the panic; it was too much. It tore through me, and I collapsed from the weight of it, my legs no longer strong enough to hold me.

The only thing that I could focus on was Paul's arms catching me, and pulling me close, as I fell apart.


	60. Need

**Chapter 60 - Need**

I had spent the last few hours trying to painstakingly translate the ancient book that could potentially explain all things imprinting.

It had taken almost an hour of trial and error to even find out the language the damn was written in; some ancient mixed version of Quileute and Makah; that didn't resemble either of the two. No proper translator even existed for it; the best thing I could find was an online dictionary.

Which meant I had to convert the whole thing to English _word by word_.

And it was taking _forever_.

I had given up on translating each entire page, instead choosing to flick through the book for words that looked promising; wolves, spirits, etc. At the moment, I was trawling through the book for the equivalent of 'imprint', with mixed results. Unfortunately, it was almost identical to the word 'people', which appeared at least once per page.

The result: a least a hundred mentions of 'people', and only two mentions of 'imprint'.

The whole thing was just infuriating.

Mentally sighing, I began translating the next promising sentence. I perked up slightly when I recognised the word for 'wolf', though that didn't necessarily mean anything; I'd been let down plenty of times before.

But not this time. This time, I'd stumbled upon something actually related to imprinting.

This time, my whole body froze, as my mouth dropped open in shock.

The book fell from my lap to the floor with a thump; in my peripheral vision, I saw several heads turn my way. They barely even registered with me; my brain had gone into overload.

My eyes were glued to the screen, wide and stunned, my body stiffening against Paul.

I couldn't believe it.

I had found it. I had actually found the information I had so desperately been hoping for.

But it wasn't what I had expected.

I had hoped to learn about imprinting. I had hoped to learn about the spirit switching Demetri had mentioned. I had known there was only a small chance that I would learn about the healing necklace, but I had kind of hoped to learn about that too.

But never would I have guessed that they all fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

Everything interlinked. Connected in a circle. Everything happened because of everything else.

I was having trouble wrapping my head around it all.

And then there was Paul. Paul, who had known the moment the words had registered in my brain. Paul, who knew nothing, and would know nothing, until I snapped, finally spilling all of my secrets.

Paul, who had somehow managed to twist me so that I was facing him, without me even noticing. His eyes were filled with emotion; his gaze was unwavering as it met my own wide eyes. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair off my forehead, before he spoke softly.

'You found something.' If I wasn't still slightly stunned, I would have made a joking remark; as it was, I simply stared at him. As the surprise slowly faded, apprehension was growing inside me; what was I supposed to say?

I couldn't tell him. If I told him, I would also have to explain my days with the vampire; and that wasn't possible. But god, I felt terrible. It had to be killing him, all these secrets. All of the snippets of information I had dropped, all of the words I had muttered; if he wasn't confused as hell, I'd be surprised.

And as the days went by, the consequences of keeping all my secrets locked up tight were beginning to reveal themselves. More and more frequently I was set off, crippled by my memories, full to the brim with unquenchable emotion. My small progress in recovery was rapidly declining, and it was blindingly obvious that the point where I snapped was fast approaching.

Either I got all of it out, or I was consumed by it.

But whichever way I was going to snap, it wasn't time yet.

'I know you can't tell me.' Paul continued. I blinked once in slight surprise, before my brain caught up to speed. Of course Paul knew; Paul knew everything about me; could feel everything I felt. Still, his apparent understanding didn't do much to assuage my guilt.

I must have frowned; or perhaps Paul felt my lack of consolation. Whatever the cause, he pulled me closer, his stare intense as he looked down at me.

'But you will, someday.' It was a statement, not a question; he sounded so certain. Despite the masses of secrets I had hidden beneath the surface, Paul still trusted me.

Not for the first time, I thanked fate for the fact that Paul had imprinted on me.

'Thank you.' I whispered, giving him a look full of gratitude.

Sometimes I wondered what I used to do before. Before I needed Paul like the air I breathed, before Paul understood me better than I did. Because right now, Paul was _everything_. He kept me grounded, kept me sane. He was there through every break down; never fazed, never wavering.

And never asking for anything in return.

* * *

'Paul.'

I woke with his name on my lips, my eyes flying open. I was alone in my bed, the sheets twisted around me, the darkness piercing. I moaned softly, wondering what had woken me, when it was so very clearly the middle of the night.

The answer hit me a second later. Literally.

Paul. Paul's emotions were a wild torrent, raging through me, uncontrollable. For a moment I felt as if had been physically slammed with them, letting out a soft gasp, feeling my heart throb.

Never before had I felt so much of him, and never so intensely. He was angry; so angry. And scared. Fear was a sharp stab in the wave of rage, and it was all too familiar. There were other emotions too; desperation, hurt, and a wild, primal instinct that was somehow both foreign and familiar. The urge to fight, to run, to hunt; it was hidden beneath the surface of his emotions. It was predatory, dangerous, lethal.

It was the wolf.

I could feel the wolf in Paul.

I suppose the first thoughts that should have popped into my mind should've been questions; Why? How? This was hardly a normal occurrence. A normal person would have been curious.

But I was not a normal person. There were no questions in my mind as I leapt out of bed, pulling on boots as I stumbled downstairs. It didn't matter why or how. All that mattered was the slowly growing, sinking feeling in my stomach that told me something was wrong, very wrong.

Paul. Something was wrong with Paul. He needed me, was pulling me towards him in a way I hadn't even known possible. It was an almost physical force, pushing me out the door and into the forest at a jog, directing me as I hurried through the trees. He was out of control, his emotions a roiling mass that I couldn't hope to interpret.

More than once, I almost tripped as a particularly powerful wave of emotion hit me. I was consumed by Paul, consumed by both emotion and need. Paul needed me; I needed Paul. I was so immersed in that simple fact that trees I passed were nothing but a blur; a blur of dark shadows, looming trees, soft wind, and rustling leaves.

Still, I knew I was getting closer. I could feel it; could feel him. I could sense his proximity, his presence. I started moving faster, the need filling me more than ever.

Was it always like this for Paul? Did he always feel like he was about to burst if he didn't have me right in front of him? Was he almost crippled by the need that was devouring me? I marvelled at the fact that he had managed to leave at all after today's events; after I had told them all, none so gently, that death had never been the problem. How had he done it? How he could he stand it?

But how Paul had managed it was insignificant. Everything seemed insignificant as I grew close, so close. So close to finding him.

I heard the snarls first. The loud growls, the sounds of fighting. My heart lurched, my own fear spiking; I quickened my pace, bursting through the trees in a rush.

I staggered to a stop at the scene before me.

The clearing was a rolling mass of wolf. Giant, looming, shadowy figures prowling, pacing, snarling. I couldn't see much in the darkness, only just able to make out the wolves arranged in a loose circle around a centre filled with fast moving bodies. I couldn't see Paul anywhere; couldn't make out anyone in the dim light.

But I didn't need light, or even sight, to find Paul. I knew he was in the middle; I recognised the wolf that charged another figure, as a third snapped at him, all three furiously growly and attacking. My eyes locked on him, unable to look away as I gasped, my heart once again constricting. My feet were still moving somehow, the need for Paul not abating, despite our proximity.

Paul. I needed Paul. I started moving faster, heading towards frantic as I approached. I was unable to stop myself from letting out a whine when a piercing howl reached my ears, knowing it was Paul who was the cause. Please, please don't be hurt. Already it was too much; I couldn't stand it if he was hurt.

I felt like my heart was being pulled from chest. I was gasping as I ran across the clearing, no longer in control. Even as I dodged the rest of the pack, barely even registering their presence, my eyes were fixated on Paul. The need had taken over; it was pushing me faster, faster towards Paul, towards the man I needed more than I air I was struggling to breathe. I couldn't look away, couldn't stop.

And I didn't want to.

I wanted Paul. I _needed_ Paul. The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity as I flew across the grass, bursting through the ring of wolves, not hesitating. I was so close; so close. So close to touching him, to finally fulfilling the overwhelming, crushing need.

So close; but not close enough.

My mind didn't seem to register the other two wolves that were fighting with Paul; they nothing, not important; all I could see was him. I didn't flinch, didn't falter, throwing myself forward in desperation, the pressure too much to withstand.

A moment of nothing; of my thundering heart beat in my ears, of my breath caught in my throat.

And then there was Paul; I slammed into him, throwing my arms around him as I let out strangled gasp.

Paul. Paul Paul Paul. The only thing I could focus on, the only thing that mattered. He was everywhere, his soft fur heavenly as I melted against his warm body. I breathed him in deeply, delighting in his earthy scent, luxuriating in the contact. The overwhelming need was gone; no longer a crushing weight, but a constant thrumming, a comforting warmth stretching from my heart to the wolf in my arms.

And with the absence of the need came an absence of the energy; the energy that had sent me running through the forest before I was even fully awake. Now that I was no longer driven by it, I was empty; my legs didn't have the strength to hold me as I fell against Paul. My brain had turned sluggish, my mind no longer able to focus; the only thing I seemed to be able to latch onto was Paul.

Paul, who was curling himself around me, his head nudging and rubbing against my back. His soft body was far more comfortable than the cold ground; ground I hadn't even noticed I'd collapsed on. I pulled myself closer with a needful sigh, shuddering lightly at the contented and protective growl that rumbled from his throat.

But the possessiveness immediately morphed into a snarling anger as a low and dangerous growl sounded from behind me.


	61. Secrets

**Chapter 61 - Secrets**

I felt Paul stiffen, snapping into alertness, tension radiating through his muscles. The head that had been nuzzling me flicked upwards, his legs subtly shifting into an attack position. Buried in Paul's neck, I could not see who was responsible for Paul's abrupt lapse back into his rage. Whoever they were made no further approach or sound, the silence in the air thickening with the growing anger I felt from Paul.

It wasn't until Paul's emotions began fluctuating in response to seemingly nothing that I realised they were probably having a conversation in the shared pack mind. I could feel his hesitance, his anger, his yearning; his wild need for something I could not identify. It was something that made him both uncontrollably angry and yet contradictorily wary.

And it was something incredibly important.

I was immediately curious; anything to do with a certain vampire aside, I really didn't think Paul and I had any secrets. So what could it be? What was it that he wanted so desperately, but I knew nothing of?

Unless…

Unless it _did_ have something do with the vampire.

Almost as if he'd heard my thoughts, Paul let out a pained whine, confirming my guess before I'd even had time to consider it. Paul's pain and indecision made me flinch, my stomach knotting itself and making me feel nauseous.

I had done this. My refusal, my inability to divulge the terrible details; I was hurting Paul. The thought made me sick, made we want to spill all my secrets right there in the middle of the forest to make up for the wrong I had caused. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it.

So I settled for the closest I could manage.

'Paul, just ask me.' My voice sounded just as broken as I felt, quiet against Paul's soft fur. Paul cut himself off mid-growl, twisting around me so that he could meet my eyes, giving me a sad and torn _you've got to be kidding_ look. He shook his head, his nose nuzzling my hair and ear as he so often liked to do while human.

'Paul, you have to. I can't stand tormenting you like this.' He growled in response, giving me a forceful look that spoke louder than words: _No._

'Paul, you need to do this. _I_ need you to do this.' Despite feeling panicked and sick at the thought of reliving even a second of that week, I knew I spoke the truth. I didn't _want_ to go through the whole nightmarish experience again, but I _needed _to.

And so for a while Paul and I just stared at one another; his gaze determined and unwavering, mine resigned but certain. And ever so slowly, as the minutes creeped by, his fierce defiance morphed into reluctant concession. He backed away a step, giving me a miserable look, as if he couldn't believe he was about to do this.

It was then that I began to wonder when exactly Paul and I had switched arguments.

However, I didn't get time to dwell on it. Paul was backing up slowly, inch by inch, his eyes not leaving mine, searching for any sign of weakness; any sign that I was going back on what I said. Then, with one last pained look, he disappeared into the trees, leaving me staring after him with a rapidly growing sinking feeling in my stomach.

In just seconds he was reappearing, striding through the trees; the only difference now was that it was his human face that was being twisted by his conflicted expression. It made we wonder what expression _I _wore; did I look as torn as Paul did? I couldn't seem to figure it out.

I was frozen, frozen as Paul reached me, ever so gently pulling me to my feet. He seemed to realise I didn't have full control of my body right now, and pulled me into his embrace, holding me tight; tighter than usual. Even without the imprint linking me to his barely restrained anger, I could sense it; I could feel the anger radiating from him, from his tight embrace and his tensed and wary body.

And then there were his eyes. They were smouldering down at me as he pulled back, tilting my head up to stare at him, his hot hands cupping both my cheeks. His eyes were an inferno, a blazing flame of anger, of rage; even as stared, I saw the last of his restraint collapse, the rage surging forwards to consume him. It packed his words, drove his strangled snarl as he asked me the question that had been tearing him apart.

'Did he touch you?'

I blinked at him, stunned for a moment.

'Did. He. Touch. You.'

He was growling, his expression both furious and scared. I knew immediately what he was suggesting, what he was terrified was true. I felt my face flicker through the flood of emotions that swarmed me; anger, horror, disbelief, fear, repulsion. Paul was shaking, and so was I, my mouth tightening into a thin line, my eyes flashing.

'No.' I said strongly, gripping Paul tightly. 'No, I was much too _valuable_ for that.' I almost growled in my anger and displeasure. But my simmering anger was completely wiped out by the all-consuming, overwhelming relief that burst through from Paul.

In an instant his lips were crushing against mine, hard and consuming as he pulled me in for a deep, searing kiss. I responded with fervour, swept away by the intense passion I could feel emanating from Paul; the passion I could feel blazing through my body as he kissed me. I let out a soft moan of contentment as I pressed myself closer, my body thrumming with the intense euphoria that had suddenly taken over, making me melt in his arms.

It was fire. Actual fire, burning through my veins, setting both my lips and heart aflame. I was hyperaware of Paul's strong arm looped around me, the hand on my waist powerful and searing. And then there was the imprint; the imprint bond had burst into flame; there was no other way to describe it. There had been a second of disorientation, a second of feeling strangled, while the bond constricted around us both, squeezing the breath from my body.

And then it had imploded. I had felt as if I was hurtling through the air, hurling toward Paul so fast that the ground was no longer beneath me. And then, we had collided; we had crashed together, had slammed into one another. Suddenly, I was no longer Chloe, and he was no longer Paul. There was just us. All of me and all of him melded and twisted and meshed together. I could feel every aspect of him, knew every aspect of him. Our souls had mixed, had twined around one another.

And it was glorious. So open, so close. The thrill of the contact, of having Paul has close to me as possible. Our emotions mixing and combining, shared and exchanged, building in intensity. Ecstasy. Pure, unrivalled bliss. And all of it happening because of the deep, passion filled kiss that was his lips moving against mine.

Paul had never kissed me like this before.

We broke apart with a gasp, him holding me in place; my limbs had melted from the overwhelming passion, from the overpowering, crippling experience that had been the merging of Paul's soul with mine. I blinked in momentary surprise, put off balance by the abrupt separation, by feeling the interlocked imprint suddenly yanked away, the meld cut off. The elation was simmering deep within me, making me smile vibrantly as I gazed at Paul.

'You've been holding out on me.' I murmured softly, smiling even wider at Paul's cheeky grin. Until now, I hadn't realised how restrained, how gentle Paul was with me. Not until he had kissed me hard, opening the floodgates for the imprint as he had never done before.

But as much as I would have loved to find out _exactly_ how much Paul had been holding back, I knew that was going to have to wait. Because while Paul was still brimming with relief over the fact that Demetri hadn't touched me – at least not in the way he was thinking – he had finally registered the rest of my sentence.

His expression was puzzled and hard as he stared down at me.

'Valuable?' He growled, angry and curious at the same time. I couldn't stop a shudder from rolling through me, and I pressed my face to his chest as I nodded. I was trembling as he held me, and was with reluctance that I allowed him to pull me away, his gaze soft as he met my fear filled eyes.

'Did you really mean what you said before?' He asked softly, cupping my cheek. He was giving me an out; and god, I wanted to take it. But I knew I couldn't; I had to do this.

'Yes.' I breathed softly, so quiet it was barely audible. I felt Paul tense beside me; I wasn't the only one not looking forward to this. He sighed, seemingly resigning himself, before leading me over to the edge of the clearing. There, he plopped himself down on the ground, his back against a tree, pulling me down with him. Surprised by my sudden fall, I was breathless as I found myself sitting on top of him, my knees resting either side of his chest. Facing him, my hands resting on his chest, our heads were level; his gaze searching my face for any sign of backing out.

Finding nothing to dissuade him, he caressed my cheek softly, his eyes not leaving mine. Then, with another sigh, and instinctively knowing I wasn't able to start, he spoke.

'You knew he was coming.' It wasn't a question, but a statement. I nodded, leaning into his touch, his hand still on my cheek.

'How?' He asked softly. There was a slight pause before I answered in a whisper.

'He told me.' Oh, how I remembered that day too well. I could feel a sliver of surprise from Paul, though his face didn't show it.

'When?'

'In the hospital. After…' The words caught in my throat, but Paul finished the sentence for me, his voice gentle and quiet.

'After the accident?' I nodded sadly. Paul thought for a moment, before suddenly stiffening beneath me, his eyes widening slightly.

'He didn't…?' I was nodding before he even finished the sentence. I could feel a myriad of emotions from Paul now; anger, shock, fear. Before he even asked his next question, I was speaking, my voice a hoarse whisper.

'He was there.' And then suddenly, the story came spilling out of me. Every terrible detail, every horrifying action, every fear-filled second. All of my secrets, finally laid out; finally confided to the one person I trusted above all others.

Paul.

* * *

After slowly, agonisingly coaxing every last detail from me, we had lapsed into silence, him thinking through everything I had said, me curling into him as I tried to stop myself from trembling. Dried tears had left streaks down my face, my heart well and truly spent from the emotional slaughter that had been divulging all of my secrets.

After finally getting everything out, I had no energy left; no will to do anything except snuggle closer to the man beneath me. But Paul; Paul was a different case. Paul couldn't seem to settle on a reaction, constantly fluctuating between horror, anger, fear, sadness. It was all there, simmering beneath surface, linked to me through the imprint. And I could feel that it was the anger that was fuelling him as he spoke, lending a dangerous edge to his statement.

'I would never have been able to live with myself if he had killed you.' Paul said softly, darkly. I shuddered, cringing into him, letting out a sad whine.

'You wouldn't have had to.' I whispered back hoarsely, my voice quiet. Paul stiffened beneath me, and I realised with a start that I had completely forgotten to tell him about what I'd found in the ancient book earlier today.

'What's _that_ supposed to mean?' He said worriedly, sitting up slightly so that he could meet my eyes. Shifting against him, I managed to extract the piece of paper from my pocket that had the information messily scrawled upon it. All day I'd been taking it out and rereading it, needing to make sure I hadn't just imagined the whole thing. By now, it was thoroughly crumpled, though Paul said nothing as I handed it to him.

'Read it.' I whispered, pressing it into his waiting hand. Paul didn't even glance at it; his eyes locked on me, fierce and concerned. I wrapped my hand around his, folding his fingers over the small and crumpled paper.

'It's what I found in the tribe's old books.' Paul gave me another measured look, before finally letting his gaze fall to the page I'd given him. Settling back against him, I rested my head on his chest, moulding against him as I recalled the words I had unintentionally memorised from the ancient volume.

_Closely guarded within the tribe is the secret of the Imprint's Oath. It was discovered that the spirit warriors could bind themselves by blood to a wooden token of their wolf form. The token, when blood bound to the spirit warrior's imprint, enhanced the imprint bond, strengthening the connection. As a result, the two are said to be __**sworn**__ together, and are henceforth mated._

_When observed by a shape-shifter in spirit form, it is seen the pair's spirits or souls are bonded; at times switching bodies, or overlapping. The exact effects of this are unknown, though some have been recorded._

_The pair cannot be separated for more than a day without both suffering extreme pain. The spirit warrior will know at all times the location of his mate, being able to sense her location through the bond. The enhanced imprint allows the spirit warrior to feel all of his imprint's emotions, also enabling the imprint to sense strong feelings from her warrior._

_However, of the noted effects resulting from the Imprint's Oath, the most significant and notable is the physical manifestation. If injured, the imprint will adopt the spirit warrior's healing ability, recovering from wounds at the same advanced rate, and surviving illnesses that would otherwise be fatal._

_At times when the spirits of the pair are swapped or combined, the pair are noted to take on the traits of the other, sometimes syncing states of consciousness. It is also noted that the imprint will become linked to the pack through the spirit warrior, though this is only really noticeable to the alpha._

_While bonding by blood is the known method for forging an Imprint's Oath, there have been cases where extreme separation or severe distress have caused the Oath and bond to be made unintentionally. In these cases, the imprint has always been in possession of a token previously bound to a pair; the bond cannot be made without the charm to bind it._

_Lastly, with regards to the death of one of the pair, it is known that if one is to die, the other will follow; the two are too strongly bound to live without each other._


	62. Bliss

**Chapter 62 - Bliss**

If one is to die, the other will follow.

Of all of the jaw dropping information the page had provided, that was the line that resonated deep within me.

Not the fact that my wolf charm had bound Paul and Me together in an Imprint's Oath. Not the fact that I had adopted Paul's healing to save my life. Not the fact that we were now _mated_, as the book had so primitively put it. And not the fact that if we spent too long apart, the pain would be unbearable.

It was the fact that if I died, Paul would die also, that left my heart constricting, my body stunned.

Paul. Dead. The thought was horrifying. I couldn't bear it, couldn't consider it. I could handle myself dying, but not if Paul would die too. To think of how many times I had almost died; to think how I had chosen death to save him, save the pack, save _me_.

Not knowing that it would mean his death as well.

Pain. Hot and sharp, piercing through my heart. Paul could not die. He couldn't. I would not accept it. I would not let it happen.

I couldn't get the image out of my heard. Couldn't shake myself of the terrifying vision, of the crippling knowledge.

Not until I found myself suddenly slammed with Paul's emotions.

I knew in that moment Paul reached the last line of the page, a strangled sounding growl erupting from his throat as his emotions pummelled into me. I couldn't sift through them all; all of them twisted and twined together into an interpretable mass of feeling.

I could, however, define the overall sense of his uncontrollable emotion.

Defiance. Pure and shear refusal. Paul would not accept it; _could not_ accept it.

Every fibre of his being was rejecting even the idea, the mere thought, of my death.

I could feel it in his hold, his arms instantly tightening around me, pulling me closer; as if I would slip away if he relaxed his hold by even a millimetre. As if if he didn't keep hold of me, he would lose me.

And I felt exactly the same way. My arms were locked in an iron grip around his neck, my head buried in chest; as if maybe, if I got close enough, I would never have to leave.

Never leaving. Yes, that was what I wanted. I wanted to stay by Paul's side; forever.

I didn't care where he took me, didn't care what he did with me; as long as I got to stay with him.

And so I didn't wonder at all about where we going as Paul stood up, me still wrapped around him, my knees tightly clutching his sides.

All I was focused on was the incredible, irreplaceable, all-consuming bliss that was having Paul hold me.

* * *

I was in Paul's bed.

Despite being emotionally wrecked from having relived that terrible week, I couldn't stop the little curl of excitement and happiness from snaking its way around my heart.

I was in Paul's bed.

But even better than that: I was in Paul's bed _with Paul_.

His smell was everywhere; on his sheets, in his pillow, and of course, on him. An overwhelming, intoxicating scent of earth and rain and _Paul_. I breathed it in like a drug, letting it wash over me, leaving me reeling in a drowsy cloud of joy.

The contented hum I let out was irrepressible; as was the small smiled that almost involuntarily spread over my lips. And it only grew wider at Paul's soft laugh, warm and deep in my ear as I shifted closer to him.

'You're smiling.' He murmured into my hair, the hand that had been playing with the dark strands trailing down my cheek to trace over my curved lips. I nodded softly, making a soft noise of agreement.

'I like your bed.' I said with a smile, melting as he smiled back at me.

'Just the bed?' He asked playfully, his finger still trailing over my mouth.

I grinned as I responded. 'I like you better.'

'Better than the bed?'

'Better than _anything_.'

Paul's answering smile was captivating.

* * *

I couldn't help but frown as Paul and I strolled passed the hospital room I had spent too much time in because of Demetri's imprisonment. It was unwelcome reminder of too many bad memories, too many terrible events.

But then again, it was also a reminder of some blissfully happy times. Times with Paul. Time spent curled up in his arms, time spent getting to know each other; time spent together.

And it was those happy memories of Paul that won out as I glanced at him with a smile, him squeezing my hand as I pulled him forwards.

It had been almost two days since I had told him everything; and it had been two days since Paul had left my side. Two days of both us trying to keep everything together, now that I no longer had any secrets. Two days of just _being _with Paul, because that was what we both needed; he needed me, to reassure himself of my safety, and I needed him, to reassure myself that Demetri wasn't hiding around the corner.

It was better now. _We _were better now. No more emotions and worries and fears bottled up; just openness. Us, against the world.

And us, being scrutinised by the nurse as she stared with a raised eyebrow.

'Hi Anne.' I said cheerfully, breezing into her office as I pulled Paul along with me. Her eyebrows rose even further as I settled down next to Paul, though she said nothing about his unexpected appearance.

This was going to be an interesting therapy session.

* * *

Anne had spent the last five minutes repeatedly glancing at Paul, so I couldn't say I was surprised when she asked to speak with him in private as we made to leave. I was pretty sure we all knew what she wanted to talk about, and I couldn't hide my smile; after spending weeks trying to get me to talk, she had found a new target.

Slipping my hand out of Paul's, I grinned playfully up at him.

'Find me after?' I asked, and he smiled.

'Of course.'

Striding out of the room, I gave Paul one last parting glance before disappearing around the corner.

Only to find myself staggering to a stop as I almost collided with an elderly woman standing in the middle of the hallway. Blinking in surprise, I couldn't stop myself from overhearing the words she was muttering to herself.

'-I could have sworn the cafeteria was this way…' Lost in her confusion, the old woman hadn't noticed me yet. Clearing my throat, I spoke.

'Sorry to intrude, but the café is down there.' I said, pointing down the corridor in the opposite direction to which the lady had been heading. Looking at me with surprise, the woman gave me a huge grin, her whole face lighting up.

'Is it? Well I never!' I couldn't help but grin at her complete and utter surprise. 'Thank you so much dear, you've just saved me an awful lot of wandering.'

'It's no problem.' I said with a smile, perking up as an idea struck me. 'Hey, why don't I walk with you?' She stared at me with momentary disbelief, as if she couldn't believe her luck.

'Would you? Oh, that would be wonderful! I've got a terrible sense of direction, and my memory is _definitely_ not what it used to be-'

On and on she chattered, a seemingly endless supply of stories she was determined to share with me, as we travelled down the hallway. Her rambling probably should have been annoying, but I was feeling oddly comfortable and content, smiling at her reminiscing.

It had been too long since I'd had a normal conversation. Too long since I'd been able to do anything without vampires and warehouses in the back of mind.

But soon, that was going to change.

* * *

I knew the instant that Paul stepped into the house, and I couldn't stop myself from breathing out a sigh of relief.

Finally.

Just over a week ago, I had been wondering whether or not it was possible that I could get addicted to Paul.

Now, I was well and truly obsessed. I was addicted to his presence, his touch, his smile, his laugh. I was addicted to everything that was _Paul_.

So much so that separation left me feeling as if he had taken part of my heart with him. The moment he left, I was counting down the time until he would return; I was wishing that he was right back by my side.

Patrol was hard. Paul was on half shifts because neither of us could stand to be apart for that long. While I had absolutely no problem with having Paul with me every hour of the day, it was obvious that not being able to stand separation for more than 4 hours wasn't healthy. We were trying to extend the time we spent apart, so that we weren't so crippled when we were separated. And it was working; slowly.

It helped that half the time he left while I was asleep. I couldn't get upset about his absence if I didn't consciously know he was missing; thought that didn't stop my subconscious. I got restless, and more often than not, a certain vampire managed to snake his way into my dreams without Paul there to ward them off.

But I was working on it. Even with the nightmares, I was calmer when I was asleep; therefore Paul was calmer. It meant he could stay away for longer before the pull became too much.

Still, despite the fact that it was growing easier to be apart, that didn't stop the relief that always swept over me when we were reunited.

Feeling better already, I dangled my legs happily from my perch on the bench next to the bathroom sink. Still running through my hair with my hairbrush, I shivered in anticipation as I felt Paul move closer.

But the small glimmer of joy that curled within me knowing he was close was nothing compared to the all-consuming elation that filled me when he appeared in the doorway. I grinned widely, my eyes fixated on him as he paused to stare. He was smirking as he leant against the doorframe, his eyes alight and arms folded, and I felt the imprint bond throb, as it always did when I got to see him again.

Paul. My eyes closed for a moment, as I revelled in his presence, breathing deeply. Feeling the weight of his gaze, my eyes once again locked on him, meeting his searing stare. His eyes were filled with need as they travelled over me, and I was sure mine were the same as they roamed over him. Clad only in jeans, my eyes traced his bare chest and muscled arms, longing filling me up and stealing my breath, before my eyes landed back on his handsome face.

Closer. I needed him closer.

And I wasn't the only one. His eyes not leaving mine, he stepped forwards, moving across the bathroom with an animalistic grace that was enthralling. Anticipation and need was tying my stomach in knots, the imprint pull growing in intensity as he made his way towards me. I had to fight the urge to leap off the bench and throw myself at him, my hand clenching around the brush still in my hand to hold myself back.

Just a few more moments.

And then Paul was there. Paul was everywhere, one hand on my cheek, the other on the small of my back as he pulled me forwards into a passionate kiss. I moulded against him, my knees gripping his hips as my arms looped around his neck, knotting in his hair as our kiss deepened.

This; this was what I lived for. The pure, uncontrollable, uncontainable ecstasy that swept through me at Paul's touch. Never stopping, never fading; never losing its intensity.

Just Paul; which was all I ever wanted.


	63. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

'Hey Em?' Emily looked up from her baking at my questioning voice, and I grinned.

'Claire and I are going to play hide and seek. But she's insisting on going outside because-'

'It has to be an adwenture!' Claire cut in, grinning widely up at Emily from her position in my arms. Emily smiled back at Claire, and I continued on.

'We might disappear for a while, but I'll check in when I can.' She nodded her consent, giving Claire a light poke to the nose before waving her hand at us in a dismissal. Following a happily squealing Claire, I hid a smirk as I followed her out the door.

Claire and I would not be checking in for a while; I planned on being as far away as possible when Quil returned from patrol. In fact, I planned on leading Quil on a merry chase as he tried to track his kidnapped imprint down; a punishment for trying to trick me into revealing my secrets.

Yes, today was going to be exciting.

Revenge was always fun.

* * *

I was having way too much fun doing this.

I had spent the last 15 minutes chasing Claire all around the forest surrounding Sam and Emily's home, ensuring that it wouldn't be easy for Quil to figure which way I had gone.

Still, with his wolf enhanced senses, I knew I was still at a major disadvantage.

It was time to get moving.

'Chwoe! Chwoe look! Look at the pwetty ladybug!' She said excitedly, prancing up to me, before delicately and carefully holding out her hand to proudly exhibit the ladybug that was crawling across her fingers. Gasping loudly, I smiled before exclaiming.

'Wow Claire! Isn't it adorable?' She nodded her agreement forcefully, and I supressed a laugh.

'What are you going to call it?' I asked, and she thought for a minute, staring at the ladybug intently.

'Quil.' She eventually decided, looking up at me wide eyed for approval. I silently melted; she was obsessed. Part of me wanted to run right back to the house and hand her over to an eagerly awaiting Quil when he arrived, but I fought it.

Revenge would be worth it.

'Good name, Claire.' I commended, and she smiled.

'What are we going to do now, Chwoe?' She asked curiously, carefully cradling the ladybug that was newly dubbed Quil in the palm of her hand. I smiled, taking her free hand and leading her forwards.

'I think we should go exploring.' I said with a playful smile, too which she responded with an excited jump of joy.

'Yay! I wuv exploring!'

Yep, the guilt was definitely gone now.

* * *

In the hours that followed, I pulled Claire along with me to explore almost every building that could be found in La Push. I made sure we used as many popular roads and paths as possible, and that we never went the same way twice; we wouldn't want to run into a certain werewolf that I was sure would be following us by now.

After a disastrous few minutes where Claire's ladybug had almost escaped, Claire had Quil the ladybug safely secure in a glass jar. Cradling it to her chest and talking to it frequently, I thanked the heavens that we'd managed to catch it again after the butterfly incident. There had been a terrifying few minutes where Claire had run off chasing a white butterfly, and had not only almost squashed Quil, but had scared him into flying away from the hand he had been resting on for the previous hour.

Thankfully, luck was on our side, and we had eventually managed to get the ladybug safely back into Claire's possession. After watching her intense relief after his return, I had procured the container, knowing that if she lost her new friend Quil she would be crushed. Having provided the bug with all the creature comforts it could want – vibrant green leaves and stunning purple flowers – she had happily carted him all around town.

Everywhere in town except the beach. That was somewhere I would be only too happy to never visit again. I had made that quite clear in an interesting conversation with Paul and the pack a few days ago, stating in no uncertain terms that 'I never want to set foot on a beach again in my life'. Even thought of going close to the beach made me flinch, my muscles tensing in uncontrollable fear.

There were some things I would just never get over.

But as depressing and fear-filling as the thought of the beach was, it did give me an idea about where to head next.

After all, the hospital gift shop had some adorable plush toys that Claire would _love_.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

Strolling through the door to Sam's house, I was greeted by Quil's frustrated and worried exclamation.

'Did she say when they'd be back?' He asked Emily anxiously, and she gave him a sympathetic look.

'No. Quil, just relax. I'm sure they'll be back soon. They probably just lost track of time.' She soothed, and I carefully masked the sly grin that threatened to appear.

I highly doubted the reason Chloe wasn't back yet with Claire was because she had 'lost track of time'.

But I wasn't about to tell Quil that. Not yet anyway.

I wasn't going to ruin her fun.

* * *

I had to admit, I was impressed. It had been hours since either Claire or Chloe had been seen, and despite Quil's searching for the last two hours, he hadn't been able to find them.

Once this was over, I would have to ask her how she'd managed to avoid been tracked by a werewolf.

'Dammit, their trail goes all over town. And Chloe smells so much like Paul that half the time I'm following his trail instead.' He shot me a glare that I ignored, to busy pondering that piece of information.

It was nice to know my imprint smelled like me. Nice to know that my claim of her was physically manifest so that everyone would know she was _mine_. My imprint. No one else's.

It was even nicer to know that she _liked_ smelling like me. Liked having my smell wrapped around her, as she had remarked just days ago as she inhaled my sheets, stretched out in my bed. My imprint, in _my_ bed. The wolf liked that, the wolf loved the though of her in my bed.

But she wasn't there now; and she wasn't with me. Need flared to life, the imprint intensifying as my want pulled her to me.

Soon. I would find her soon.

But only after Quil had been tortured enough that she would want to be found.

I must have smirked; must have done something to give my enjoyment away. Quil's annoyed glare had become a deeply suspicious look as he scrutinised me.

'Paul, do you know something I don't?' He asked, and I gave him a slightly smug look, prompting a glare.

'I don't know what you're talking about, Quil.' Even an idiot couldn't miss the false innocence in my tone, or glint in my eyes.

'Paul,' Quil said dangerously, his body tensing, making his displeasure clear.

'If you're asking whether or not I'm aware that my imprint had something planned to get revenge on you for interrogating her last week…' I drawled, unable to hide a devious grin. Quil growled angrily, before slumping in his chair with defeat.

'She's kidnapped Claire.' He moaned, staring at the window longingly for a moment, before turning back to me.

'Before you ask, I don't know where she's taken her.'

'But you could find her?' He asked.

'And ruin her fun?' I retorted, making Quil once again groan.

I would let him stew for a few hours, and then I would help him.

Then I would hunt my imprint down.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

True to my expectations, Claire had loved the gift store; but not as much as I had thought.

I had underestimated her affection for Quil the ladybug. Her attachment now bordered on obsession, which was both simultaneously adorable and worrying to watch. Part of me was starting to think that maybe the _actual_ Quil had been replaced by his bug counterpart. And by the avid way she was currently telling him a bedtime story, convinced that he was going to have an afternoon nap, my estimation didn't seem that unrealistic.

To be honest, I was starting to wonder where the hell actual Quil was. Surely it shouldn't take this long for a werewolf track us down, despite my rudimentary efforts to delay him. I had never thought I'd keep away for this long; long enough that the need for Paul was slowly growing from the bearable constant pull to a more forceful, controlling yank.

Soon, I wouldn't be able to stand the separation.

But my thoughts of Paul and wanting him here flew from my mind in a rush as I rounded a corner, Claire in tow, to find Ellie, the elderly lady I'd met in the hallway a few days ago, once again making her way to the cafeteria.

* * *

Our combined laughter rang out across the cafeteria, Ellie's eyes crinkled with mirth as she laughed with me over the intriguing story she'd just regaled me with.

After recovering from my initial shock at once again encountering her in almost the exact same hallway – what were the odds? – the three of us had settled down in the cafeteria, Ellie once again chattering away just as she had a few days earlier. Having supposedly sung Quil the ladybug to sleep, Claire was now dozing in my lap, her precious ladybug safely within my view on the café table. Her nap had left me free to converse with Ellie, who despite having talked to for only 10 minutes last time, had not only remembered me, but got along with me as if we'd known each other for weeks.

'Can you believe it? He threw the entire lot away, just like that! Didn't even bother to ask me!' I made a sympathetic noise, expressing my agreement and disbelief.

'That's terrible. I hope you got him back for it.' She grinned, a slight hint of deviousness lurking behind her smile.

'Oh, I did, believe me. He got a good yelling at after that.' I laughed softly, and so did she.

Just like the last time we had met, I was enthralled by her chatter; enraptured by her bubbliness and unflappable optimism. The normalcy was refreshing; fulfilling in a way that conversations with Paul or the pack weren't.

Never would I have guessed that two visits to the hospital would gain me a new friend.

And never would I have guessed how much I needed one.

* * *

_Paul's POV_

Seven hours.

That was how long she had been gone for. Seven hours since I'd held my imprint.

That was seven hours too long.

The wolf had been yelling at me for the past hour, urging me, forcing me to go to her.

And now I was finally going to get her back. I couldn't stand the separation; couldn't stand not having her next to me. This was the longest we'd been apart in weeks, and the constant pull was beginning to ache, my heart clenching.

No more. I couldn't stand any more. I was going to find her. The bond throbbed at the thought, the imprint reacting to my anticipation. The wolf growled its approval, its urge to hunt her down primal and predatory. Soon, my imprint would be back in my arms. My want was powerful, consuming; it filled the bond between us, pulling at her fiercely. I could feel her, feel her mirror my want, my need.

She wanted to be found.

That was all the motivation the wolf needed.

I was out the door in seconds, feeling through the bond for her location, instinctively heading towards the pull. Quil was just behind me, looking torn between frustration and relief.

'Finally! Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting?' He said dejectedly, his despondent tone at odds with his eager walk.

'Long enough that now she wants to be found?' I responded, feeling my eyes light up at the prospect. Quil grunted, looking miserable. I couldn't resist a grin as I continued.

'It could have been worse, man.' Quil gave me a disbelieving glance at my words; clearly, he couldn't think of anything worse than being deprived of his imprint. The thought made me quicken my pace as I gave him a sly smile.

'Trust me; this was one of the tamer suggestions.'

It was strangely satisfying to see the vaguely alarmed look on his face. Only my imprint had the ability to make the wolves suspicious; her unpredictability and boldness meaning they couldn't always figure her out.

I could though. I knew exactly when she was serious pretending to be playful, and playful pretending to be serious. I knew her; was the only one that could truly knew what she was thinking.

And I was the only one she would submit to. If anyone else tried to dominate her, she wouldn't hesitate to assert herself; wouldn't hesitate to fight back. Except for me; she liked being dominated by me.

And the wolf loved dominating her.

* * *

_Chloe's POV_

Paul was coming. I could feel him getting closer; I could feel his need through the bond, echoing my own.

We had been apart too long. So long that the pull of the imprint was almost crippling in its intensity, in the hold it had on me. I couldn't stop thinking about Paul, couldn't stop imagining that I saw him heading around the corner. In the end I stopped looking, the constant disappointment and yearning making my heart ache.

Paul. I needed Paul.

* * *

'QUIL!'

Claire's loud squeal as she ran through the cafeteria doors had me leaping from my chair and racing after her, with a quick apology to Ellie as I ran after the screaming toddler. Almost skidding down the vinyl floored hallway as Claire disappeared around the corner, I hoped to god it wasn't the ladybug we were chasing after; I didn't know what I'd do if we lost him.

But the worry that was slowly curling in my stomach as I charged around the corner disappeared completely as I found myself slamming into a hard, warm body that was all too familiar.

'Paul.' I gasped, throwing my arms around his neck as I crushed myself against him. His laughter was heaven to my ears as he embraced me, his nose in my hair familiar and soothing as he inhaled me like a drug. I could hear Claire giggling and squealing in happiness somewhere behind me, and despite my reluctance to move even an inch away from Paul, my previous worries regarding one very important ladybug forced me to turn.

Claire was happily being coddled by actual Quil, who seemed beyond relieved to have finally gotten his hands on his imprint. Still, his relief didn't stop him from meeting my interested gaze with an angry glare. Paul's arms still looped around me, I felt him step forward to press himself against my back as Quil approached.

'Do you have any idea-'

'How perfectly justified I was in stealing Claire to get my revenge?' I cut him off before he could finish his dangerously low warning, my smug and challenging tone at odds with annoyance. He gave me another glare, but I ignore it in favour of addressing Claire.

'Claire, you should show Quil who we found today.' I said innocently, stepping forwards to move passed him and pulling Paul with me. Quil blocked our path, standing over me with a look.

'Quil! Quil look!' She squealed happily, pulling from her pocket one still safely contained ladybug and brandishing it at Quil.

Giving him a smile, I whispered under my breath. 'She named her ladybug after you.'

His angry and annoyed expression melted at my words, his beaming grin as Claire proudly informed him of the ladybug's name one of complete and utter adoration. This time, Paul and I easily moved passed him; he was too absorbed by Claire and Quil the ladybug to be angry anymore.

The two of us moving together around the corner, I felt Paul's hot breath on my ear as he spoke.

'Where are we going?' He asked softly, and I could feel his smile against my ear.

'To meet a friend of mine.' I replied. 'But first,' I said with a smile, stopping and turning in his arms. Tilting my head up, I pulled his lips down to meet mine, the kiss short and sweet as his hand tangled in my hair.

'I missed you.' I murmured, my lips brushing his as I spoke. He kissed me again, the arm around my waist holding me tight against him. I felt his smile against mine as he pulled back, staring down at me curiously.

'So who are we meeting?'

* * *

'Chloe, my dear, you're back! For a moment I'd thought you'd disappeared with that adorably sweet girl you were chasing after!' Her tone was mocking, not annoyed, as she caught sight of us re-entering the cafeteria. Unable to stop myself from grinning at her amusement, I made to step forwards, Paul's arm still looped around me.

Instead, I found myself restrained by the arm as Paul froze in his tracks, a strangled sound emerging from his throat. Through the bond I could feel his surprise, his confusion; but not the cause. Turning to face him, I saw that his gaze was fixated on Ellie, his expression one of shock.

Fear coiled in the pit of my stomach, but was promptly replaced with disbelief as Ellie's questioning voice rang out across the cafeteria. 'Paul, is that you?'

Turning to give Ellie a bewildered and surprised look, I stared as she hobbled across the cafeteria to approach us, her eyes scrunched up as she stared intently at Paul. The three of us seemed frozen, no one moving as Paul stared at Ellie, Ellie stared Paul, and I stared at the two of them staring at each other.

I had no idea what was going on.

But my surprise reached a whole new level when she suddenly smiled, and lifted her walking stick to gently but firmly whack Paul on the arm.

'It is you!' She whacked him again, giving him a stern look. 'You never visit anymore. Is that any way to treat your grandmother?' She admonished, whacking him a third time. Glancing up at Paul, I saw that he was smiling down at Ellie, who despite being more than a foot shorter than him, didn't seem at all fazed to be threatening someone so obviously stronger than her.

The whole thing was just too coincidental to process. What were the odds that Ellie, the nice elderly lady I'd met in a hospital hallway, would end up being Paul's grandmother?

But while I was still reeling over the newly discovered relationship between Ellie and Paul, Ellie seemed to have no surprise or confusion whatsoever.

'Come on, Chloe dear. Let's sit down so you can tell me all about how you know my disregarding grandson.'

* * *

_Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnggg!_

I was jerked painfully and abruptly from sleep by the loud and piercing of ring of the phone on my bedside table. Moaning, I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, covering my ears with my hands as I burrowed deeper into Paul's embrace.

_Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnggg!_

I moaned again, this time muttering unintelligibly under my breath as Paul pulled me closer. Damn that accursed phone.

_Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnggg!_

As the third ear-splitting ring ripped through the air, I swore under my breath, making Paul laugh into my hair. I frowned against him, still half asleep, unable to comprehend why this was funny.

_Rrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnggg!_

'Make it stop.' I mumbled, flinching as the sharp sound seared my ears.

'Are you going to answer it?' Paul asked curiously, sounding more amused than anything at my grumpiness.

'No.' I said firmly and unhappily, cringing as a fifth ring emerged from the unforgiving phone. Feeling Paul's arm around me tighten, he pulled me with him as he rolled onto his back, easily plucking the shrieking phone from my nightstand.

'Hello?' His voice was deep and husky as he answered, and too loud for whatever ungodly hour it was.

'_Matt? Is that you?_' I could hear a too awake female voice on the other end, and I snuggled closer to Paul's chest, sighing in relief that the terrible ringing had finally stopped.

'No. He's not here.'

'_Who are you then?_'

'I could ask you the same question.'

'_Nissa._' The voice replied. I moaned softly as I realised the caller's identity; a good friend of mine from Seattle. Paul gave me a smile, and I gave him an annoyed look in return, though my sleepiness ruined the affect.

'Paul.'

'_Why are you answering Chloe's phone?_' Her suspicious tone was obvious, as was the slight hint of piqued interest. Paul grinned.

'She's asleep. Or she was, until you woke her up.' I could almost see my friend's raised eyebrows and suggestive smile in response to Paul's comment.

'_Can you put her on?_' I shook my head, moaning again.

'I don't think she wants to talk to you.'

'_Too bad._' I groaned again, before grudgingly accepting the phone that Paul was offering me.

'Is this punishment for not calling you last week?' I grumbled sleepily, and she laughed.

'_What do you think?_'

'I think it's-' I pulled the phone away from ear to read the time on the screen. '-three in the morning and I hate you.'

'_I will have you know that it is in fact 11am where I am, which is a perfectly acceptable time to call._' Her smugness was palpable; she knew perfectly well the time difference between here and New York.

'It's also a perfectly acceptable time to murder someone.' I said darkly, and with a grin Paul took the phone back off me, leaving me free to collapse back onto his chest with a sleepy yawn.

'She's in a bad mood now.' Paul said, ignoring the glare I gave him.

'_Sorry._' Nissa didn't sound at all apologetic.

'Don't be. She's cute when she's angry.' I made a face and Paul smirked, letting me steal the phone back.

'I am not cute when I'm angry.' I said firmly.

'_Paul disagrees._' She said smugly, before asking quietly, '_Is it serious?_'

Glancing at Paul, I answer softly. 'Yes.'

'_How long?_'

'Not long enough.' I breathed, meeting Paul's burning gaze.

I could almost see Nissa's smile as she replied. '_Good._'

And then she hung up.

* * *

Not long enough.

That was what I had told her. Without thinking, without needing to pause. It had been automatic.

My heart had known the answer, even if my brain hadn't.

Not long enough. No amount of time with Paul would ever be enough.

And as Paul pulled me close, his eyes smouldering as his hand stroked my cheek, I realised with a start that what Nissa had found out in one conversation, was something that I was only just starting to realise.

I was in love with Paul.

It wasn't just the imprint; it wasn't just needing him like a drug.

I loved him.

I loved his smile, his laugh, his smell. I loved his very presence.

I loved him. Had loved him for a while; but with the weight of all my secrets, I hadn't been able to see it.

Now, however, I was certain. I loved him.

And I thought that maybe he might just love me too.

* * *

_4 Years Later_

'He did not!'

'Did to.'

'Did not!'

'Did to!'

'No. No way. There's no way that happened.' I protested, shaking my head forcefully.

'It did.' Paul said confidently, his gaze challenging. I glared, shaking my head as I turned away, only to find myself turned right back around by Paul's hand on my shoulder. Staring defiantly up at his smirk as his arm grabbed my waist, I gave him a bemused look.

Still, despite our bickering, I couldn't help but return his smile as he held me. I melted against him as he caressed my cheek, wrapping my arms around his neck as he gave me a deliciously sweet kiss.

'You're trying to seduce me.' I murmured, feeling him grin as his lips brushed mine.

'Is it working?' He asked softly, and now it was my turn to grin.

'Maybe.' Still smiling, I pulled back slightly, giving Paul a light prod to the chest. 'It still didn't happen.'

Paul shook his head, grabbing my hand and leading me forward.

'It happened.'

'But it couldn't have!'

'You're in denial.'

'I am not!' I exclaimed, barely noticing as Paul pulled me through the doorway to Sam and Emily's. Stopping to poke his chest again, I gave him another glare.

'There is no way that happened.'

'Are you sure?' He asked, his eyes dancing with mischief.

'Absolutely.'

'You're wrong.'

'No, you-'

'_Is that a ring?_' My objection was cut off by the loud and incredulous male voice that sliced through our argument. Still standing face to face with Paul, both of our heads turned to see Quil staring at us in shock. I grinned widely while Paul cursed softly, and I turned to look at him, radiating satisfaction as Paul met my smug and victorious gaze.

'I told you he'd be the first notice.' I bragged smugly, holding out my right hand expectantly. Paul gave me a defiant look, before handing over the promised twenty dollar note. I pocketed it with a smile, and he grinned as I placed my left hand on his chest, admiring my newly adorned ring finger. My head once again twisted to look at Quil, who was still looking stunned, but had a smile playing on his lips.

'To answer your question, Quil; yes, that is a ring.'

And then I smiled; I smiled so wide the corners of mouth began to ache. I smiled as Quil grinned, Emily gasped, and Jared muttered 'finally' under his breath. I smiled as my brother rolled his eyes before giving me a knowing grin.

And I smiled as Paul grabbed my left hand, lightly fingering the band of metal wrapped around my ring finger.

_Paul's_ ring on _my_ finger.

Right where it belonged.

* * *

**The End.**


	64. Lovebirds

Just letting you know that I've posted an extra scene for this story called **Lovebirds**. It centres around Paul and Chloe's wedding day. If you are interested, the link is on my profile. I've included the summary below.

* * *

**Lovebirds**

I had always been Paul's, and no one had ever questioned that. But today, it would become official. Just in case everyone didn't already know, now they would. They would know that Paul was mine and I was his. I would no longer be Chloe Walker, but Chloe Lahote; which was all I'd ever wanted.


End file.
